


But if I never know, well at least I'll lie (with you)

by fromourpast



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromourpast/pseuds/fromourpast
Summary: Both Erin and Holtzmann insist that they aren't interested in the other. Are they lying, in denial, or hiding something? Or could they even be telling the truth? Only time will tell.
Relationships: Erin Gilbert/Jillian Holtzmann
Comments: 45
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Run' by Delta Rae. 
> 
> I have most of this story written already, so I'll post more soon!

“Hey, Holtz.” Erin folded down the flaps on the cardboard box she was packing and picked up the tape dispenser beside her. She drew it across the top, sealing the seam neatly. “I have a question for you.”

“Yes, the material you’re packing up should in no way be sealed inside a box,” Holtzmann replied distractedly. She was bent over a project on the table in front of her, her eyes magnified threefold by the lenses clipped to her goggles. “Not if you want to keep all of your toes.”

Erin looked down at the freshly-sealed box, sighed, and pulled her Swiss Army knife out of her pocket. “Maybe you should pack your own things.”

“No time, gotta finish...this. Thing. Whatever it is.” She glanced up and caught a glimpse of Erin cutting open the box. “You didn’t put packing peanuts in there, did you? If it comes in contact with styrofoam, the results could be catastrophic.”

“No. Bubble wrap.”

Holtzmann blanched and dropped everything in her hands. “Even worse.” 

Erin dutifully moved out of the way as Holtzmann rushed over to unpack the box. “I’ll say it again; maybe you should be doing your own packing. Jennifer Lynch said she’s sending the moving van over at noon. And you’re still...tinkering.”

“Engineering,” Holtzmann corrected. “Making sweet, sweet magic.”

“Wouldn’t you rather make—” Erin gritted her teeth— “sweet, sweet magic in your new Firehouse lab?”

“Of course.”

Erin handed her the tape dispenser.

Holtzmann pushed her magnifying lens up out of the way. “Fair enough.”

-

“You know, I actually had a different question in mind earlier.”

“Hmm?” Holtzmann turned her head, mouth crammed full of fortune cookies. She was sitting on one of the sticky tables in Zhu’s, waiting for their order to be ready. Abby wanted wontons for the road. 

“Can you not talk with your mouth full? I’m trying to have a serious discussion here.”

Holtzmann chewed and swallowed the cookies. “ _Feeding a cow with roses does not get extra appreciation._ ”

Erin blinked. “Excuse me?”

Holtzmann held up one of the many fortune papers stashed in the pocket of her jacket.

“That’s the dumbest fortune I’ve ever heard,” Erin said.

Holtzmann tsked. “ _Hard words break no bones, fine words butter no parsnips._ ”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re stalling asking whatever it is you want to ask. If you don’t do it the next six seconds, I’m eating another cookie.”

Erin held up her hands. “Okay, okay. You remember when we met?”

“Vaguely.”

“That was...only a few weeks ago. Seriously?”

Holtzmann held up another fortune cookie half to her mouth, eyebrow quirked.

“Stop, I’m getting to it,” Erin said. “When we met, you were flirting with me, right?”

Holtzmann popped the cookie half in her mouth and chewed. “Sure.”

Erin crossed her arms and then uncrossed them again. “That was a joke, right? You were flirting with me as a joke?”

Holtzmann paused. “Yeah. Right.”

Erin exhaled. “Okay. That’s what I thought.”

“I mean, not that—like, I wasn’t trying to be mean about it. It wasn’t supposed to be like I was pretending that I was into you and the joke was that I wasn’t. You know? Like when people ask someone out as a prank? It wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

Erin’s brow creased.

Holtzmann continued in a rush. “Just, y’know, you were super uptight and I wanted to get under your skin and it seemed like flirting with you would be the easiest way to annoy you, so that’s...that’s what I was doing. Trying to irritate you.”

“It worked,” Erin mumbled.

“Again, I wasn’t trying to be mean. I wasn’t trying to pretend that—I mean, it’s not like I _couldn’t_ be into you—I wasn’t though, I’m not—I...I’m really digging myself further into a hole, aren’t I?”

Erin crossed her arms again. “It’s fine.”

“You’re just not my type, that’s all. Nothing against you; you’re, uh, very pretty, and...it’s just...I’m not really interested…”

Erin held up a hand to stop her. “Just stop talking. You’re not my type either, alright? Like, _really_ not.”

“Well, glad that’s settled, then.”

“Yeah. Glad that’s settled.” Erin looked firmly off in the other direction, willing the kitchen to hurry up with their food. 

“Just to reiterate, you’re really great, Erin. And I’m super psyched to know you. After all, _a friend is a present you give yourself_.”

Erin stared back at her. “There’s no way it really says that.”

Holtzmann held up one of the paper slips as proof.

“Ugh.” Erin reached out and snatched a fresh cookie out of the bag dangling from Holtzmann’s wrist. She cracked it in half and shoved a piece in her mouth while she unfurled her own fortune.

_An agreeable romance might begin to take on the appearance._

She huffed loudly and crumpled it up in her fist. 

Holtzmann smirked. “Didn’t like that one?” She produced another paper and held it up. “How’s this? _Happiness begins with facing life with a smile and a wink_.”

She winked, and Erin laughed it off while her heart beat loudly under her chest. 

Movement caught her eye.

“ _Hey!_ Bennie, we’re literally right here, that’s not for delivery—get back here!”

They took off after him, the conversation left behind with a couple littered fortunes.

-

“So when are you going to ask out Holtzmann?”

Erin began to cough up the coffee she’d just taken a sip of. Luckily lukewarm and not scalding; she had been busy working all morning.

Abby didn’t notice. “I thought maybe you were waiting until the apocalypse dust settled, but it’s been weeks now. Tick tock.”

“Abby, I’m not—” Erin set down her mug— “I’m not going to ask Holtz out.”

“Honestly, you’re not going to get far if you wait for her to ask you. God love her, but she’s terrible with emotions. Like, really, truly bad.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Girl is basically a scallion with a blowtorch. That’s the extent of her emotional range.”

“A scallion,” Erin repeated. 

“I got lunch on the brain,” Abby said, leaning against Erin’s desk. “You don’t think she looks like a scallion?”

There was a long pause.

“No,” Erin said. 

“You hesitated.”

“I was just taking a moment to wonder how your brain works. _Anyway_. What I was _trying_ to say is that I’m not waiting for her to ask me out and I’m not planning on asking her out. I don’t like her.” Erin paused. “Well, obviously I like her. But I don’t _like_ her. Not like that.”

Abby gazed down at her over the rims of her glasses. “Erin, do we need to have a talk?”

“Aren’t we already having a talk?”

“No, a ‘Erin Elizabeth Gilbert, we both know you’re not straight, so stop pretending you are’ talk.”

“Of course I’m not straight,” Erin scoffed. 

“Oh, so you know?”

“Abby, we literally dated. Of course I know.”

Abby held up a finger. “Yeah, I know—and you spent literally the _entire time_ trying to convince me we were just experimenting.”

“ _Well…_ ”

“No _well_. You did.”

“We _were_ experimenting,” Erin countered. “We did a lot of experimenting in those days. We were scientists. Still technically are, if you ignore what a couple of select scientific journals have to say about us.”

“Screw you, _Physics Weekly_ ,” Abby muttered.

“My point being that we were experimenting to see if we were compatible in a romantic sense,” Erin continued. “Hypothesis: we were enamored with each other, therefore a romantic relationship would yield positive results.”

“Results: no. God no. Never again. Do you remember when I nearly killed you over the Oatmeal Fiasco?” Abby shuddered.

“Additional findings: platonic love can be just as intense as non-platonic. Areas for further research: the existence of platonic soulmates.”

“Love you too, Er.”

“Conclusion: I love you, but not like that. Which is a convenient segue into my main point, which is that I don’t like Holtz like that either.”

“Okay, your conclusion can’t lead you to your main point. You know what conclusions are, right? They conclude.”

“I’ve published dozens of well-received, peer-reviewed scientific papers, thank you,” Erin said. 

“Well, here’s your peer review for this one: I don’t buy it. You’re telling me you _know_ you’re not straight, but you’re still denying that you like Holtz?”

Erin shuffled some papers on her desk. “I’m not denying anything! I don’t like her! She’s not my type. Just because I’m not straight doesn’t mean I have to be attracted to every single woman.”

“What do you mean, _not your type?_ She’s everyone’s type!”

“Come on, Abby. She’s impulsive; she’s verging on obnoxious; she’s reckless; she’s loud; she’s disorganized; she’s distractible; she’s messy; she’s a little macabre sometimes; she doesn’t take anything seriously; she’s got the emotional range of _produce_ , as you pointed out; she’s—”

“Kind, funny, a genius, witty, compassionate, loyal, sensitive, charming, positive, hot, good with her hands, a surprisingly phenomenal bowler—”

“Why don’t _you_ date her, then?”

Abby grimaced. “That’s another failed hypothesis. Results: I’ve never had to call the fire department so many times in my life and I’m still getting the smell of smoke out of everything I own. Conclusion: I should stop trying to date my friends.”

“Alternate conclusion: one more and you’ve got the full set. Or two more, if—”

“I’m not touching Kevin with a ten-foot pole. That one’s all you.”

“For the record, I don’t want to date Kevin either,” Erin mumbled. “There’s lots that I want to do to that man, but dating him is not one of those things.”

Abby mimed retching. 

“Patty would be a good girlfriend,” Erin said. “If she’s ever single, one of us should jump on that.”

“Please, Patty has never been single a day in her life.”

Erin nodded in agreement.

“Anyway,” Abby said, “I think it’s interesting that you whipped that list out _very_ fast and neglected to mention any of Holtzmann’s good qualities. Almost like you’ve been building an argument for weeks now about why you definitely don’t like her.”

“Well I—I have been _thinking_ about it, but that’s just because I thought maybe she liked me—because of the flirting when we met—and I wanted to make sure I had my argument ready for if she tried to persuade me to date her.”

Abby paused, then burst out laughing. “You were expecting a debate?”

“I like to be prepared,” Erin replied, a little offended. “It turns out she doesn’t like me after all, which is good. The last thing I’d want to do is break her heart.”

“Right, and giving her a list of all the reasons she doesn’t appeal to you would have been the ideal way to let her down easy.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t have listed them like that. Not unless she pressed for details on why she’s not my type.”

“You’ve really thought a lot about this, haven’t you?”

“No,” Erin mumbled. 

“For the record, I think you’d be great together. In addition to all of her aforementioned good qualities, you also have so much in common.”

“Name one thing we have in common.”

“You both believe in and study the paranormal.”

Erin laughed. “That doesn’t count. That’s _work_. If all we have in common is our job, that means nothing.”

“Are you kidding? It’s a shared interest! You’re telling me you’d date someone who _didn’t_ believe in the paranormal?”

“I never said that! I said that it’s not some hobby—it’s our job. It’d be like if you told a plumber to date another plumber because they were both interested in plumbing.”

Abby crossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling. “Here’s a question: if two plumbers were dating and one of them clogged a toilet, would they unclog it themselves or would they call the other one to do it?”

“I’d imagine they’d do it themselves.”

“But think of the comedy of phoning up your plumber significant other and saying that you need them to come fix a clogged toilet, when all the while they’re sitting in the living room. Wouldn’t that be a hilarious bit?”

“Would it?”

“Okay, scratch that scenario. What about if they had a houseguest who clogged the toilet? Which one of them would go unclog it? Do you think they’d flip a coin? Or do you think there’d be one of them who always does it? Like ‘who wears the pants in your relationship?’ except it’s ‘who carries the plunger in your relationship?’”

Erin didn’t answer.

“The joke is that they _both_ carry the plunger. Because they’re plumbers,” Abby added.

“I got that, yes. I think this conversation is sufficiently derailing, so can I get back to work, now?”

“Sure, sure,” Abby said. “But really, though: when are you asking Holtzmann out?”

Erin let out a long sigh.

-

“When are you asking Erin out?”

Holtzmann glanced sideways and adjusted her grip on her proton gun. “Exsqueeze me?”

Abby tried the doorknob of the door to her right. “You heard me.”

The door didn’t unlock, so Holtzmann stowed her gun and snagged the mini crowbar that dangled from her utility belt. She stepped around Abby and jammed it in the doorframe, leaning her weight against the door.

The old wood gave away under her shoulder instantly and she stumbled a few steps into the dark room. She rehung the crowbar from her belt and swapped it for a flashlight as Abby followed close behind her. 

She clicked on the flashlight and illuminated a dingy, cobwebby room. It was freezing, likely because the window was smashed. The moldy curtains were blowing in the wind. 

“Rat shit,” Abby said, examining the floor. “Always lovely.” 

“Don’t look now, but there’s a creepy doll, too.”

Abby turned her head to take in the crusty doll lit up by Holtzmann’s flashlight beam. “Oh, Christ.”

Holtzmann propped the flashlight under her chin and dug her phone out of her pocket to snap a quick photo of it. “For Patty,” she explained.

“Patty’s going to love that.”

“My guess is she won’t speak to me for a week,” Holtzmann agreed gleefully. She pocketed the phone and picked up the flashlight again. “Actually, should I just take it back with us? Set it up somewhere in the Firehouse and wait?”

“Not if you value your life.”

“I doubt it’s actually possessed,” Holtzmann said, stepping closer to it.

“I meant Patty.”

“Oh, yeah. No, fair enough. Maybe I’ll take it back to my own apartment then.”

“Holtz. We all know you live at the Firehouse.”

“Dammit, I can’t get anything by you, can I?”

“No, just like you can’t get out of answering a question by distracting me.”

“I’m not trying to distract you. _I’m_ distracted.”

“You’re deflecting.”

Holtzmann glanced back at her. “What do you want me to say? It’s a short answer: I’m not.”

“Not asking her out? Why not?”

“Why would I ask Erin out?”

“Because waiting for her to make the first move could take forever?”

“Uh, Abby?”

“Oh come on, don’t argue with me. You know I’m right.”

“No, I just thought you might want to know that the doll’s head just turned around.”

“Nice try, but I’m really not the target audience for this. I’m never going to react like Patty.”

Holtzmann lifted her head from where she was bent over the doll. “No, really. It did a full 360. Like yours did that one time—by the way, did you know I still get nightmares about that?”

“Yeah, and I’m going to be seeing a chiropractor for the rest of my life. We all have problems.”

Holtzmann tucked the flashlight under her armpit and drew her proton gun again. “Right now I’d say our main problem is this levitating doll.”

“This really isn’t your best effort, but I’ll play along.” Abby wandered over, then faltered. “Oh. Oh God. That’s unsettling.”

“What, the glowing eyes? Yeah, I’m not a fan.”

“Light it up on three?”

“ _Three_.” Holtzmann mashed down the trigger button and cackled.

-

“For the record,” Holtzmann said as she wove through traffic, “I’m not into Erin, which I told her several weeks ago.”

“I heard,” Abby said. “I don’t buy it.”

Holtzmann took a corner so fast that Abby had to reach out and catch the mangled remains of the doll as it fell off the dashboard. They tore it mostly to shreds while they busted the ghost possessing it, but wanted to keep it for research purposes. And for scaring Patty.

“It’s true, though,” Holtzmann said. “I don’t like her. She’s not my type.”

“Oh, _do_ enlighten me as to why not.”

“She’s too uptight for me. She can be a little controlling, a little bit of a stick-in-the-mud. She never lets me have any fun and is always going on about safety and responsibility and blah blah blah. She cares way too much about what people think of her, which, you know, does make me feel bad for her...and she’s a bit of an anxious mess sometimes, which can be kind of cute, but also means she radiates tension. And don’t get me wrong, she’s stunning and obviously a genius and really funny sometimes, but she’s also the personification of 500 rubber bands stretched around a watermelon and I could never date someone like that. Plus, she’s a neat freak and super particular about every little thing. And she spends like a thousand years thinking through every decision she ever makes and making pros and cons lists.”

“Is that all?” Abby said dryly.

“Oh, and her clothes are too flammable.”

“Right, what everyone looks for in a partner.”

Holtzmann cut in front of a car, leaning on the horn the whole while. “Flammability is probably my number one turn-off, actually.”

“Right. Well, need I remind you that Erin’s also really great in a lot of ways?”

“Actually, I take it back—I’m into a certain degree of flammability. Just to keep things spicy.”

“She’s hard-working, dedicated, passionate, determined, ambitious—”

“These are all synonyms.”

“She’s also protective, selfless, thoughtful, intelligent, composed, warm—”

“ _Very_ warm. Have you ever noticed that? It’s like she’s got a perpetual low-grade fever. Or menopause? How old is she again?”

Abby glared at her. “I take it back. She deserves better than you.”

“I take offense to that. I’m a catch.”

“So is Erin.”

“Listen, I’m not fighting you. Erin’s great. I love Erin. But I don’t want to date Erin. And she doesn’t want to date me. What’s the big deal?”

Abby groaned. “I give up.”

“Suit yourself. Wanna deal with the doll now? She’s leaking slime into the air vents.”

“Oh, shit—”

-

“Well that was a bust. And not the fun kind.”

Patty looked up from her book. “No ghost?”

“Oh, we got a ghost. What I didn’t get was honesty.” Abby flopped down on the couch beside her. “Both of them swear they’re not interested. Very adamantly.”

Patty shrugged. “Maybe they’re not.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“No, I believe they’re already dating.”

Abby threw up her hands. “ _Thank_ you.”

“Who knows though. Sometimes it takes a while to fall for someone, y’know? Denial isn’t the only explanation. Maybe they need time to get to know each other.”

“We should probably lock them in a room together, huh? Or send them on an overnight stakeout alone?”

“You think they need us to arrange that? Nah, they already spend every second together.”

“God, they do. It’s so infuriating. _Tell_ me they’re not obsessed with each other.”

“Feelings or no feelings, their obsession with each other was never up for debate.”

“The worst part is that I think they might be actually telling the truth. Erin’s a notoriously bad liar, and Holtz will deflect like crazy if a topic’s getting too close to home. Both of them were very honest-sounding. That’s the thing, though—I think I do believe that _they_ think they’re not interested in each other. Whether or not they actually are and are denying it is a whole other question. Erin’s ability to repress things is unparalleled, and Holtz actively avoids emotions, so I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Wouldn’t they have been acting a bit more shady though? On some level they’d know they were denying it.”

“But they _were_ acting shady. You should’ve heard the laundry lists they had ready to go with all the reasons why the other wasn’t their type. It was unreal. You don’t have a list like that locked and loaded unless you’ve spent hours thinking about it. And why would you think about all the reasons why you don’t want to be with someone unless you were trying to convince yourself?” Abby huffed. “It’s so dumb. They’re idiots. Both of them.”

“They’ll get there,” Patty promised.

“They’d better,” Abby said. “By the way, Erin thinks that we should date.”

Patty gazed at her and reached out to squeeze her arm. “Baby, I say this with all the love in my heart—I’m out of your league.”

“You think I don’t know that, Patty? I know that.”

Patty laughed. “Love you.”

Abby grinned. “Love you, Pats.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Is it just me, or does it seem like we’re always the ones who get stuck doing this?”

Erin hoisted the last bag of equipment over her shoulder and slammed the hearse door shut. “We _are_ the ones who always get stuck doing this.”

Holtzmann held out a hand. “That one’s heavy—let me take it.”

Erin adjusted her grip on the bag. “I’m strong enough.”

Holtzmann grinned and pried it off her shoulder anyway. “Of course you are. I was trying to be chivalrous.”

“Who says chivalry is dead?” Erin joked. “Let me get the door, then.” She darted ahead and up the stairs of the rickety porch to the grand oak door of Smallwood Manor. It had been abandoned for long enough that they hadn’t had any problem getting in, without even having to use Holtzmann’s favorite crowbar. 

Holtzmann followed her inside and set the bag down with the rest of their stakeout gear. They were setting up shop in the front sitting room because it was in better shape than most of the rest of the house.

Erin set to work opening the folding lawn chairs and placing camping lanterns around the room. Holtzmann started pulling gear out of bags, unpacking tripods and microphones and cameras. She took a handful of smaller security cameras and popped back outside to rig one up on the front porch and another around the back of the house. They’d learned a long time ago that it’s a good idea to have eyes on the exterior of the abandoned building you’re camping out in overnight. Sometimes your vehicle gets spotted outside by local hooligans, who then decide to come mess with you for fun. Or sometimes there are squatters who come back for the night and give you a heart attack. One time Holtzmann played a rousing game of chess with one while he gave them a detailed account of every paranormal encounter he’d witnessed in the house, only for them to realize after an hour that he was giving them the plot of _Poltergeist_. 

Abby was supposed to be meeting them there soon, too, and they learned their lesson after that one time that she nearly lost an ear because Erin got a little trigger happy and thought she was a ghost.

By the time Holtzmann got back inside from setting up the security cameras, Erin was lounging in one of the chairs with an unscrewed thermos of coffee in her hand. 

“Got one for me too?” Holtzmann asked hopefully.

Erin had already withdrawn the other thermos out of the insulated bag next to her that was also keeping their dinners warm. She tossed the thermos over to Holtzmann, who snagged it out of the air with ease. 

“You really shouldn’t throw hot liquid,” Holtzmann said.

Erin took a swig of coffee. “You sound like me.”

Holtzmann unscrewed the top of her thermos and winked. As she took a gulp, she strode over to the dust-covered fireplace. “You think I can light this?”

“No.”

“I can get some wood from outside.”

“No, Holtz. You’ll light the whole place on fire.”

Holtzmann scoffed. “It’s a fireplace. It’s made for it.”

“It _was_ made for it a hundred years ago. And now it’s been sitting unused for decades. It’s not safe.”

Holtzmann bent and stuck her head in the fireplace, craning to look up the chimney. “Looks fine to me.” She began coughing suddenly and pulled her head out. “Oh, gross, I inhaled a cobweb.”

“Get away from there.”

“Fiiiiine. You’re no fun.” Holtz straightened up and ambled back over. She dropped into the other chair and took another glug of coffee. 

Erin screwed the cap back on her thermos and wedged it into the cupholder of her chair. “I guess I’ll set up the EVP recorder.” 

“I can do it…”

“Don’t worry about it; you just sat down.” Erin stood up and got to work hooking up the machine, setting it running, and testing the playback. 

Holtzmann got back up as well after a brief rest and resumed setting up the rest of the equipment, including attaching a video camera to a tripod and positioning it in the corner of the room. 

“Pretty convenient that Patty’s niece had that baseball game tonight,” she commented offhand.

Erin smiled wryly. “I didn’t even know she had a niece.”

“And I didn’t know that youth baseball leagues played nighttime games,” Holtzmann said. “You learn something wrong every day.”

Erin laughed. “At least Abby’s coming for once.”

So on cue that Holtzmann wondered if they’d been bugged, both of their phones vibrated. 

Erin got hers out first. “Oh, would you look at that. Abby’s apartment flooded and she can’t come.” She looked up and rolled her eyes. “What an unexpected turn of events.”

“Text back ‘Oh my god, that’s terrible! Holtz and I will be there as soon as we can to help.’”

Erin giggled and typed that out, then hit sent.

It was not three full seconds later that her phone started ringing at top volume. 

Erin’s giggles turned into full laughter. 

“Quick, answer it,” Holtzmann said.

Erin sucked in a few breaths to try and compose herself before answering on speakerphone. “Abby! Holy crap, I can’t believe it! We’re packing up our gear right now.”

Holtzmann snickered in the background. Erin waved at her and then pressed her fist to her mouth to keep from laughing herself. 

“No, no, it’s okay!” Abby said quickly and too loudly. “You stay there!”

“But what about your apartment?” Erin said with far too much inflection, like a middle schooler in a class play.

“There’s barely any damage! Really minor, just cosmetic—but I need to deal with the insurance company and stuff, you know how that goes.”

“Uh huh, of course,” Erin said emphatically. “Are you sure? We don’t mind coming—we can stake this place out another day when you can join us.”

“No, it’s really okay. I’m totally okay with missing out!”

Holtzmann mouthed something and pointed at the video camera in the corner. Erin cocked her head.

“Tell her we’ll film it,” Holtzmann whispered, barely audible. 

“We’ll film everything for you,” Erin said. “We can just keep the camera running all night so you won’t miss anything.”

“Oh, uh...thanks. That’s...really great.” Abby paused. “Actually, wait, no—you don’t have to do that. I don’t need to, uh, spy on you guys. And whatever you want to...do.” She coughed. 

Erin was holding back laughter again. “Okay, well if you’re sure,” she said, voice definitely uneven. “I’ll let you get back to the insurance company.”

“Huh?”

“About the flood?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, yeah...that. Definitely. Well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

“Bye, Abby.” Erin hung up, then dissolved in laughter completely. “I want to be impressed, but she could do so much better than that.”

“That was terrible,” Holtzmann agreed. “Think she’ll go to the trouble of actually fabricating evidence?”

Erin sat back down. “What, like actually flooding her apartment?”

“You heard her, it’s mainly cosmetic. A cup of water spilled on the floor should do it.”

“Patty won’t have evidence she attended a baseball game.”

Holtzmann sat down as well. “No, of course not. She’s too good of a liar. If we asked, she’d say something like that photography isn’t permitted because they’re minors.”

“That’s brilliant. She totally would.”

Holtzmann tipped a hat that wasn’t there. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“What have _you_ ever tried to get out of doing?”

“Lots of things,” Holtzmann said. “Just not overnight stakeouts with you. Never that. They’re too fun.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Why? I’m here for the boos, not the yous.” 

Erin snorted. Holtzmann grinned.

“Nah, I jest. Your company is what makes it fun.”

“Abby and Patty don’t know what they’re missing,” Erin said, unscrewing her coffee again.

Holtzmann did the same and lifted her thermos in Erin’s direction. “Cheers.”

Erin mimed clinking them together even though she was several feet away, then took a swig. 

“Really, I don’t know why they avoid it so much. It’s not like it’s _that_ bad. Yeah, we’re all too old for all-nighters—”

“Speak for yourself.”

“—but it’s really not the worst way to spend a night. It’s like camping, except with ghosts.”

“Uh, Erin, I’m pretty sure the reason they always bail is just to get us alone.”

“Huh? Why?” Before Holtzmann had even opened her mouth, Erin was already answering her own question. “Oh. Ugh. They just can’t give it a rest, can they?”

Holtzmann made a face and drank from her thermos, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. 

Erin stared at the fireplace. “Why are they so obsessed with us? Don’t they have anything better to do?”

“No,” Holtzmann deadpanned.

“Never in my life have I tried to set up someone I know, let alone my _friends_. And _definitely_ not to this extent. It’s honestly a little insulting. Can’t two people be friends and not want to date each other? Isn’t that the whole point of friends?”

Holtzmann shrugged. “Beats me. You three are my first friends.”

“You agree though, right?”

“What, that people can be friends?”

“That too, but I meant that they’re going way too far with this.”

“Oh, hundred percent. Pretty sure half the time they pull these stakeout locations out of their asses for us. Some of the busts they send us on, too.” 

Erin blinked. “Seriously?”

“You checked the PKE meter since we got here?”

Erin hurriedly got it out of the bag and held it up, watching the prongs spin at the laziest pace she’d ever seen. She had higher readings in her own apartment building.

“God dammit,” she said, slumping back in her chair and letting the PKE meter dangle in her hand beside her as she stared up at the ceiling. 

Holtzmann stared at her for a long moment. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?”

Erin’s head snapped down. “What?”

“I’m at least 97% sure that there’s no ghost here. We could either stay here all evening to confirm that, or we could take off early.”

“And go home?”

“I actually thought we could go do something fun.”

“I thought you said this _was_ fun?”

Holtzmann held up a finger. “I believe what I said was that hanging out with _you_ was what was fun.”

Erin chewed on her lip. “Won’t Abby and Patty know that we ditched?”

“Nah, they’ll never know. We’ll leave the EVP recording all night. And Abby already gave us the go-ahead to not film much in case we wanna bang or whatever she thinks we need privacy for. We could just do a quick check in before we leave to have evidence that we were here, and then go.”

“We usually check in multiple times in the night, though.”

“Fine, then we’ll go for a few hours and come back.”

Erin thought for a few moments. 

“Okay,” she said, nodding her head.

Holtzmann rubbed her hands together. “Excellent. Where do you wanna go?”

Erin thought again. 

“I hear that you’re a surprisingly good bowler?”

Holtzmann grinned.

-

“STRIKE!” Holtzmann thrust her fists in the air and kicked out her leg. 

“You’ve got a pin left!”

Holtzmann danced her way back to the ball return. “You’re taking all the fun out of bowling.”

“You can’t just call everything a strike, Holtzmann! That’s not how bowling works.”

“The rules of bowling are made up, Erin.”

“ _Every_ set of rules is technically made up by _someone_.”

Holtzmann finger-gunned her. “Exactly.”

“You still have to follow them!”

Holtzmann selected a ball and moonwalked back to the line. Without turning or breaking eye contact, she swung and threw the ball behind her through her legs.

It travelled smoothly down the center of the lane, curved at the last second, and smashed through the remaining pin. 

“I,” she said, dancing in sync with the little cartoon pin on the screen above her head, “don’t have to do anything.”

Erin gaped at her. “What the hell?”

Holtzmann blew her a kiss. “My picture’s not on the wall for nothing, sweetcheeks.”

-

“These don’t have enough cheese on them,” Holtzmann complained, lifting a nacho chip with her thumb to peer under it. “I call foul.”

Erin wrinkled her nose. “Those don’t have _any_ cheese on them. That’s...plastic, or something.”

Holtzmann scooped up the container and leapt up from her chair. “I’ve gotta remedy this.”

She approached the counter and set the nachos down on them, glanced left and right, and then hopped over the counter in one swift motion.

“ _Holtz_ ,” Erin hissed. 

Holtzmann grabbed the tray and carried it over to the cheese machine, slamming her hand down on the pump to coat her chips with another several layers of sauce. 

“Hey!” called a voice to her right. “Holtzmann, get outta here.” 

“Don’t worry, Frank,” she replied without turning her head, “I have a permit.”

He came up beside her. “Shoo. We’ve talked about this.”

“She stuck her cheese-coated thumb in her mouth to lick it clean. “Have we?”

He crossed his arms. “Your date looks unimpressed.”

She looked behind her. “Not my date. And that’s how her face is all the time.”

He sighed and stepped around her to the popcorn case, where he scooped a bag full and shoved it at her. “For your girl. You need a couple fresh beers too?”

She grinned. “Only one, for her. I’m driving.”

He bent down below the counter to pull a beer out of the cooler there. 

“And a Coke for me?” 

His eyes narrowed but he obliged.

She took the drinks. “And—”

“ _Go_.”

“See ya next week, Frankie-boy.”

As she hopped the counter again and strode back to the table with her spoils, Erin hid her face.

“If anyone asks, I don’t know you,” she said.

Holtzmann dropped into her chair and crammed four chips into her mouth at once. “Likewise,” she said with a wink. She nudged the bag of popcorn across the table.

Erin eyed it. “Is that for me?”

Holtzmann nodded, mouth still full. 

Erin considered it, then took a small handful. “Okay. I take it back.”

“Me too,” Holtzmann said. She shrugged. “Not that I ever meant it to begin with.”

-

Erin climbed the stairs to the third floor with a book tucked under her arm in search of some peace and quiet. When she reached her destination—the small library that Patty had set up a few days after they’d moved in—she found out she wasn’t the only one with the idea. 

“Hey, Erin,” Patty said without taking her eyes off the page she was reading. The armchair she was sitting in was surrounded by stacks of thick volumes. “Headache day?”

Erin pulled out the chair at one of the desks and set her book down as she sat. “Not yet, but getting there. I asked her three times to turn down the music and she wouldn’t.”

“Stop asking and do it yourself, then.”

“She disabled the off switch and the cord is plugged into the same corner as some of her death machines. Pull the wrong one and God knows what will happen.” Erin tilted her head hopefully. “Is today the day you’re going to tell me which of the switches in the breaker box kills it?”

Patty shook her head. “No dice. That secret knowledge has gotta be used _very_ sparingly. Do it too often and she’ll put two and two together that her speaker system isn’t just on the fritz. Before we know it, she’ll be toting around a nuclear-powered boombox or some shit.”

Erin snorted. “She would.” She settled into her chair with a fond smile and cracked open her book. 

They read in silence for ten minutes before there was a loud crash from the second floor. 

Erin’s head snapped up, eyes widening. “Do you think I should—”

“She’s probably fine,” Patty said. 

“I’m fine!” Holtzmann yelled out a few seconds later, as was customary.

Patty gestured without looking up. “See?”

Erin was still staring anxiously at the stairs. She chewed on her lip. “Patty, can I ask you a question?”

“Mmm?”

Erin paused. “Never mind.”

Patty lifted her head, closed her book with her index finger wedged between the pages to keep her place, and leaned forward eagerly. “No, what’s up?”

Erin fidgeted with her hands. “Do you think you could find out if Holtz likes me?” She cringed. “Oh, gosh, that sounds so schoolgirl. It’s just that—”

Patty had already retrieved her bookmark and was getting out of her chair. “Say no more. I’m on it.”

“What, now?”

“Girl’s coming down off a lab mishap,” Patty said. “She’ll be more talkative.”

“Okay, but don’t tell her I sent you. I don’t want her to know.”

“Please. You think Patty’s an amateur?” she scoffed.

She thumped down the stairs to the second floor, which was filled with smoke. She waved it away. 

Holtzmann had a fire extinguisher trained on a charred something on the bench in front of her. She finished spraying and sat the canister down beside her as Patty approached.

“That one’s outta juice now,” she announced. 

“I think that was the last one,” Patty said. “I’ll take it and the rest of them over to the station this afternoon to refill them.”

“Tell Juliet I say hi,” Holtzmann murmured, bending over the mess on the table to examine it.

“Think you can make it until this afternoon without another fire?”

Holtzmann hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ve got a baby one in the cupboard back there for emergencies.”

Patty snorted. “Only you could have an emergency version of something that’s already supposed to be for emergencies. Don’t think these things are meant for everyday use.”

“Design flaw,” Holtzmann said. 

Patty leaned her elbows down on the box in front of her on the table. “So. You like Erin, right?”

“Sure, Erin’s great,” Holtzmann replied distractedly as she dug through the piles of junk on the bench looking for something. 

“Holtzy, it’s been a long morning and I _know_ you know what I meant. Don’t start with me.”

Holtzmann looked up and licked her lips. “Whaddya want me to say? I feel like I’ve said that I don’t at least a thousand times at this point.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you know that, so why are you asking?” Holtzmann moved her goggles up to the top of her head. “Did Erin ask you to ask me?”

“Does that sound like something Erin would do?”

Holtzmann ran a hand through her hair, looking troubled. “It’s just that sometimes I get this feeling that she likes me. I know she told me she doesn’t, but I don’t know, maybe she’s lying? It’s just these little things that make me wonder. Like how she laughs at all my jokes, even the really stupid ones. Or how much she raves about how good of a job I did whenever I build new stuff. And sometimes she squeezes my arm. Or smiles at me when she thinks I’m not looking.”

“She smiles at you? Better start putting down deposits on venues,” Patty said dryly.

Holtzmann met her eyes worriedly. “You think?”

“Holtzy. Baby. I was kidding. I don’t know if Erin likes you. You want me to find out for you?”

“You’d do that?”

“For you? Anything. Patty’s on it.”

“Don’t tell her I sent you, though! I don’t want her to get the wrong idea!”

“Who’d want that?” Patty muttered as she walked away.

Back upstairs, Erin pounced on her. 

“Well? What did you find out?”

“Not much. She wouldn’t give me a straight answer.” Patty perched on the edge of the couch closest to the desk Erin was using. “Why are you so interested? It’s ’cause you like her, right?”

Erin spluttered. “How many times have I said no? So many times. More times than I can count.”

“So why do you care?”

“I—I don’t know, I know she swears she doesn’t like me, but sometimes I wonder if she actually does. She’s always trying to make me laugh...and she always gives me first pick of sidearms.”

“Now, that _is_ notable.”

Erin was lost in thought. “And she goes out of her way to talk to me, I’ve noticed. And sometimes—I don’t know, I catch her looking at me a certain way and I can’t help but wonder.” She broke out of her trance and glanced at Patty. “You probably think I’m crazy. You’re sure she didn’t give any indication?”

Patty shrugged. “Like I said, she gave a roundabout answer. I’ll do some more snooping for you and let you know what I hear.”

“You’d do that?”

“For you? Anything.” 

Patty picked herself up off the couch. Erin didn’t seem to notice her leaving as she made her way back downstairs. 

Holtzmann perked up as Patty crossed the lab.

“So?”

“She wouldn’t give me a straight answer,” Patty said. 

Holtzmann’s face screwed up. “Huh. Well I guess that could be a good sign.” She paused. “Or a bad one, I guess. Because I don’t _want_ her to be into me.”

“Uh huh.” Patty started backing towards the set of stairs to the first floor. “I’ll do some more snooping for you, alright? Let you know if I hear anything else.”

“You’re the best, Patty.”

“I know.” Patty lifted her hand in a wave and then jogged down the stairs to the first floor. “Abby, come with me to go pick up lunch,” she called as she crossed the room. 

Abby popped up out of nowhere. “It’s 10:30.”

“Yeah. I know.” Patty jerked her head at the door. 

“Ah. Yep, let’s go.”

-

“So,” Patty said the second they stepped out onto the street a few minutes later. “Just had some very telling conversations.”

“Yeah?”

“Not only did they both literally make me go try to find out if the other was interested in them, like we’re ten years old on the damn playground—”

“Oh my God.”

“—but they also both basically said the same thing when confronted.”

Abby lit up. “Did they say yes?”

“They both gave me a variation of ‘Haven’t I already told you no?’”

Abby momentarily stopped walking. “Ooh. Oh, that’s _brilliant_.” She rejoined Patty with a little skip. “Not just ‘no’. Did either of them actually say no or did they just say that?”

“Just that. You know what that means, right?”

“Brilliant,” Abby repeated. “Absolutely brilliant. It’s not lying. It’s saying ‘well, I told you no before’ without actually saying no now. Something’s changed.”

“They’re getting into denial territory now. Subtle sidestepping? Talking around the truth with vague statements? Avoiding saying anything definitively?” Patty nodded. “It’s only a matter of time now.”

Abby rubbed her hands together. “This is the best day ever.”

“Oh, I forgot the best part. They both had a whole list of reasons why they think the other is lying about not liking them.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Erin actually said that I probably thought she was crazy. I wanted to be like girl, you _are_ crazy. Both of you are idiots.”

“At least they’re finally picking up on what’s right in front of their eyes. How long were the lists?”

“They left out a lot of the subtler ones, but got the basics. You know what I think? I think they’re just slow.” Patty tapped her temple. “They haven’t mentally caught up to what they’re actually feeling and doing. And when you’re that disconnected from your emotions, sometimes it’s easier to see things in someone else than see them in yourself. Not surprised at all that they’re starting to notice how each other is acting before they figure it out themselves.”

“They really are the dumbest geniuses out there,” Abby agreed wholeheartedly. 

“The wheels are in motion,” Patty reminded her. “At what point do we start placing bets?”

“Early days, Patty. These are early days.”

“Give it another month before we start wagering?”

“Deal.”


	3. Chapter 3

Erin’s eyes were blurry, and every time she blinked, her eyelids stuck closed for half a second. The whiteboard in front of her no longer had identifiable markings.

Holtzmann materialized beside her. “Open your hand.”

Erin opened her hand reflexively without turning, and felt something small drop into her palm. She lifted her hand and examined the two pills sitting there, then looked to her left, brow furrowing.

Holtzmann extended a mug of something steaming towards her. “For you.”

Erin took the mug and numbly peered into it. Coffee.

“It’s Tylenol,” Holtzmann said. “I know you can’t take ibuprofen on your medication.”

Erin blinked clumsily. “How...do you know that?”

“Educated guess. I know you’re on medication, and I know that the meds _I’m_ on can’t be taken with ibuprofen, and I know the general families of drugs that shouldn’t be mixed with ibuprofen, so I figured it was a safe assumption.”

Erin stared at the tablets again. “How did you know I had a headache?”

“You’ve been rubbing your temples every ten minutes.”

“I have?”

“Yes.”

“And the coffee?”

“It’s—” Holtzmann checked her watch— “9:30pm, you haven’t moved in six hours, and you didn’t react when the others left for the night. Based on all available evidence, you’re here for the long haul. Figured you could use a pick-me-up. I’ve got a pot of decaf brewing too, in case you’d rather drink responsibly.”

“I’ll take the caffeine,” Erin said. It looked too hot to drink, so she sat it on the desk behind her, then looked around it.

“Oh, yeah, here.” Holtzmann pulled the exact object that Erin was looking for out of the pocket of her lab coat. She handed her the water bottle. “Filled it for you.”

The exterior of the stainless steel bottle was cold, and Erin could hear ice cubes clinking inside. “Thanks, Holtz. That was...really thoughtful.” She popped the Tylenol in her mouth and took a swig to wash them down. The ice water gave her a momentary jolt of energy. 

“Must be a doozy,” Holtzmann said, nodding her head at the whiteboard. 

Erin was distracted looking around the room. “The others went home?”

“Yeah, four hours ago.”

“I didn’t hear them.” She looked up at the ceiling. “It’s so quiet.”

Holtzmann scratched her ear. “Oh, yeah, I powered some stuff down. Figured you could probably use complete silence to focus. Especially with the headache.”

Erin’s eyes fell to her. “Why are you still here if it’s so late?”

“I volunteered to keep an eye on you,” Holtzmann said. “Also I live here.”

“I don’t need babysitting,” Erin said indignantly.

“May I reiterate that you haven’t moved in six hours?”

“Fair point,” Erin grumbled. “Did you just say you live here?”

“Yup. Upstairs.”

“You mean in that weird section of the third floor that’s boarded up?”

“It’s not _boarded up_.”

“You know what I mean.”

“That’s the place. I demoed all of the bunks but one to make room for the rest of my stuff, but if you ever need a place to crash for a nap or something…” She shrugged. “It’s there.”

“Oh, God.” Erin groaned. “A nap sounds so good.”

“Let’s go, then,” Holtzmann said. 

“What? No. I can’t sleep until I solve—” Erin turned her attention back to the whiteboard with a dead stare— “ _that_.”

Holtzmann stared at it for a second, then nodded. “Right, alright, I’m making an executive decision.” She reached around Erin to grab the still-steaming mug. 

“Hey, my coffee!”

“I’m switching you to decaf, we’re solving that sucker,” Holtzmann said, “and then we’re taking a nap. Deal?”

Erin glanced at the whiteboard, then at Holtzman, then back at the whiteboard. 

“Deal.”

-

“No offense Holtz,” Erin said after she had splashed some water on her face in the bathroom and accepted a new mug of freshly-poured decaf, “but do you even understand this stuff?”

“Erin.” Holtzmann leaned on the whiteboard. “I’m useful for more than standing around looking pretty and blowing stuff up. I have _several_ degrees in experimental particle physics.”

Erin pointed. “You just smudged my numbers.”

Holtzmann peeled herself off the whiteboard and looked behind her. “Well, maybe that section was the issue.”

Erin sighed. “I don’t know what the issue is. If you can find it, I’ll be lifelong indebted to you.”

Holtzmann took a couple steps back and examined the board, tilting her head from side to side. Then she stepped a few paces to the right to look at it from another angle. She reached into the pocket of her lab coat and withdrew a few loose gummy worms, then let them dangle in her mouth as she dropped into a crouch and gazed up at the whiteboard from the floor.

“Does this help?” Erin asked. 

Holtzmann swallowed her gummy worms like a baby bird. “Getting a new perspective always helps.”

Hesitantly, Erin went all the way to the edge of the whiteboard and stared down it from the side. She could barely see anything. 

Holtzmann popped back up and pulled a neon green whiteboard marker from her pocket, uncapping it with her teeth. She drew a massive circle around the lower right quadrant of the whiteboard and then recapped the marker. 

“It’s there,” she said confidently. “Don’t know what part, but it’s definitely in there.”

Erin joined her and eyed the circle. “Are you sure?”

“Like 86 percent. But it’s still a one in four chance of being right either way.”

“The odds could be worse,” Erin said with a sigh.

“Regardless, your whiteboard now has at least seven percent more color on it than before. That could be your problem.”

Erin held up her own black marker. “It’s practical and easy to read, thank you.”

Holtzmann stretched up on her tiptoes to doodle in the top corner. “But can you draw ectoplasm with it?”

“Ectoplasm won’t help solve the equation,” Erin said. 

“It might. How would you know if you haven’t tried it? I’ve got some in cold storage upstairs if you want some.”

“Cold storage meaning the freezer in the third-floor kitchen, correct?”

“That’s the one.”

“Kevin thought that was jam and spread it on toast.”

“Who keeps jam in the freezer?”

“Really, that’s your first question?”

Holtzmann waved dismissively. “Eh, he’ll be fine. Actually, when was this? No, never mind, it’s fine. I’ll run some tests on him tomorrow.”

Erin twirled her marker between her fingers and gazed at the equation. 

“Whoa, where’d you learn to do that?” Holtzmann asked, staring at her hand.

Erin looked down and spun the marker again. “That? I don’t know…I just picked it up, I guess. Nervous habit.”

Holtzmann tried it. Her marker clattered to the ground noisily. “You’re nervous?” she asked as she bent to pick it up.

Erin glanced at her. “That I’m never going to solve this equation, yes.”

“Bah, you’re Erin Gilbert. You’re never down for long.”

“Certainly never _this_ long,” Erin said.

“Pfft. It’s been half a day. I’ve spent longer trying to get a popcorn kernel out of my teeth.”

Erin’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I’ve been working on it for over a week on paper. Today was just the day I wrote it out on the board so I could solve the last of it.”

“My statement is still applicable.”

Erin made a face. “Gross. Haven’t you heard of floss?”

“Alright, so let’s floss this equation.”

“No, I meant—”

“We need to really get in there. Dig deep.” Holtzmann paced the length of the board again. “Have you tried replacing all the X’s with another letter?”

“Why would I do that?”

“For funsies.”

Erin stared at her. 

“Okay, this was a mistake,” she groaned. “You’re not going to be able to help. Do you even understand anything on there?”

“Almost all of it, yeah.”

“What part don’t you understand?”

Holtzmann pointed. “Everything in the green circle.”

Erin sighed. “You’re telling me you circled that area because you don’t _understand_ it? Seriously? That’s so not helpful.”

“Well, if don’t understand it, there’s probably a reason,” Holtzmann said. “I usually understand all your calculations.”

Erin blinked. “Oh. Hold on, that’s really smart. If it doesn’t make sense to you, there’s probably a reason.”

“Didn’t I just say that?”

“We should start from the beginning. See where we lose you.”

“Or we could just start with the green circle.”

“Better yet, let’s start with the green circle.” Erin tapped her marker to her chin. 

“Or that, yeah.”

“But _what?_ What’s wrong with it?”

“Have you tried, just throwing this out there, actually testing new things instead of just staring at it and asking that question?”

“Yes.”

Holtzmann quirked an eyebrow. “Really? Because I haven’t seen you touch that whiteboard in hours.”

“I’ve tried a hundred different solutions in my head,” Erin murmured. 

“Well now _there’s_ your problem. You gotta get your hands dirty.” Holtzmann gestured at the board. “Do something for me: go erase something.”

“Erase what?”

“Nope, don’t think. Just go erase something—the first thing that comes to your head. Whatever your impulse is. Do it. Do it now.”

“Okay, okay!” Erin rushed forward and rubbed the whiteboard with the sleeve of her hoodie, wiping off about a square foot of the board. Then she stared numbly at what she just did. “Why did I just do that? What if that part was right?”

Holtzmann shrugged. “Well, then you can put it back.”

Erin looked at her sharply. “I don’t even remember what was there! How am I supposed to put it back? This was the dumbest idea ever, Holtzmann!”

“Erin, take a breather.”

Erin inhaled and exhaled roughly. “Wait—my notes. I can look up what was there.” She turned around and rummaged through her desk in search of her notebook. She found it and flipped it open to the page with that section of the equation.

She looked up to see neon green writing in the blank spot. 

She looked at it, then down at the book, then back up. 

“Did you just solve it?”

Holtz cocked her head. “No? That’s what was there before.”

“No it wasn’t.”

“Yeah, it was. Photographic memory.” Holtzmann tapped her temple.

“Are you sure?” Erin asked weakly.

“112% positive.”

Erin shoved the notebook at her. Holtzmann glanced down, brow furrowing, and then her forehead smoothed out.

“Ah.”

“Are you telling me that I _copied my fucking notes down wrong?_ ” Erin looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Well, it certainly does seem that way,” Holtzmann said. She reached up to wipe away her markings with her thumb and then rewrote it. “Just by one little number though.”

Erin sunk to the floor. 

Holtzmann tossed the notebook back on the desk and joined Erin. “Could happen to anyone.”

“I hate myself,” Erin said. “Just go finish it off and put me out of my misery.”

“And deprive you of the joy of finishing an equation? Absolutely not.” Holtzmann offered her the neon green marker. 

Erin considered it for a minute, then took it and struggled to her feet. 

“Atta girl,” Holtzmann said. “You got this, Gilbert.”

Erin erased the rest of the contents of the green circle and squared up to the board, rolling her shoulders back with a heavy sigh.

-

Some 30-odd minutes later, Erin was down in the very bottom corner of the whiteboard, madly scrawling the last few lines of redone math. Every once in a while, Holtzmann threw out a number if Erin got stuck for more than a minute, but other than that she’d been staying quiet and watching from where she was seated on Erin’s desk, legs swinging. 

Now that Erin was nearly there, she hopped off the desk and came to stand beside her. Erin didn’t seem to notice as she continued on, mouthing to herself as she wrote. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” she murmured as she reached the final step. 

Holtzmann’s brain got there at the same time that Erin’s did.

“Yes!” Erin shouted. The marker fell to the ground as she turned on Holtzmann and threw her arms around her.

“WOO!” Holtzmann lifted her all the way off the ground. 

When she put her back down, Erin stepped back from her, smoothing down her hoodie and clearing her throat. A blush spread on her cheeks. She stooped to pick up the fallen marker and then added in the solution in glaring neon.

“Isn’t that the best feeling in the world? Finally solving something?” Holtzmann let out a happy sigh and leaned against the desk. 

“Yeah, except when the answer was staring you in the face,” Erin said, capping the marker and setting it in the tray. “I’m such an idiot. I can’t believe it was right there in front of me the whole time.”

“Nah, you still solved it! You wouldn’t be an idiot even if the solution had been written out neatly on a piece of paper for you.”

Erin pointed at the notebook. “It was.”

“Yeah, but _you_ wrote it there, Erin. You knew the answer all along. And you’re the one who erased that part of the equation, because deep down you _knew_. There was just a little break in the neural pathway. Sometimes all it takes is one little synapse to put two and two together and _bang_.”

Erin laughed nervously. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Plus, we all gotta be idiots sometime, right?” Holtzmann threw her arm around Erin and steered her away from the whiteboard. “Now come on, I believe you promised me a nap.”

-

Erin peered uneasily into the back of the third floor. “You really live in there?”

“What do you think is back there? Gremlins?”

“I just always thought it was our storage place. Like a creepy attic. It’s so dark and there’s so much crap in there.”

“Excuse you, those are my earthly possessions.” Holtzmann paused. “Earthly Possessions would be a great paranormal band name.”

“Paranormal band as in a bunch of people like us in a band? Or like a bunch of ghosts in a band?”

“Yes.” Holtzmann prodded her in the back. “Now stop stalling. There’s nothing scary back there except for some laundry that I’ve been putting off.”

Erin cautiously stepped through the arch into Holtzmann’s quarters. There was definitely just as much junk as she expected, maybe even more. There were boxes upon boxes stacked on the bare frames of the other bunks. There was a wire running along the floor and up one of the exposed studs of the wall. It didn’t appear to be connected to anything.

“Did there used to be walls, or was it always like this?” Erin murmured.

“There used to be walls.”

“And?”

“There was an incident.”

Erin spun around to face her. “How long have you been living here?”

“Since like...I dunno, two or three days after we moved in?”

“Why?”

“You kidding? This room is way bigger than any apartment I’ll ever be able to afford in this city. My last apartment was literally someone’s closet. And I swear I decided not to live in closets anymore back in, gosh, must have been in middle school.”

“Smartass.”

“Come on, madam physicist, go get your well-deserved rest.” Holtzmann nudged her in the direction of the lonely, dilapidated twin-sized bed.

“It’s not the original mattress, is it?”

“No.”

Erin hesitantly flopped down. 

Holtzmann saluted. “Enjoy your nap. I’m gonna go tinker for a bit and then I’ll crash on the couch tonight.”

Erin frowned. “I believe you said _we’ll_ take a nap.”

“I don’t really _need_ a nap, but I’ll never say no to one.” Holtzmann landed in the bed beside her and Erin nearly rolled off the edge. “Be warned: I’m a cuddler.”

“This is not new information to me,” Erin said. She shifted onto her back and folded her hands over her stomach.

Holtzmann snuggled her face into Erin’s neck. “I love that you sleep like a corpse. Very on-brand.”

“‘Corpse’ is like this.” Erin moved her arms so they were crossed over her chest.

“Only if you’re an ancient Egyptian,” Holtzmann said. “Haven’t you ever seen a dead body?”

“Not as frequently as you, I’d hazard.”

“Mmm.”

“You know, most people would correct the subtle implication that they murder people.”

Holtzmann grinned into the dark. “I’m not most people. Now are we napping or no?”

Erin moved her hands back to her stomach. “Yes. Sorry.”

She was silent for a second.

“Hey, Holtz? Thanks for helping me solve that problem. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Not true,” Holtzmann replied, voice slurring.

“Are you already falling asleep?”

“I’m like Pavlov’s dogs,” Holtzmann mumbled. “I hear the word nap and I’m out like a light.”

“I wish I was like that,” Erin mused. “It always takes me ages to fall asleep. Usually an hour or more. It’s why I don’t nap—there’d be no point.”

Holtzmann responded with a snore.

Erin smiled and closed her eyes. She fell asleep within minutes.

-

Erin woke up disoriented and it took her a moment to realize why she was hanging off the edge of a small, horribly lumpy mattress in a room that smelled like smoke. Then she noticed the freezing foot pressed against her ankle and the wild blonde hair that was dangerously close to being in her mouth. 

She lifted her wrist in front of her nose and squinted to make out the hands on her watch in the dark. It looked like it was a little after midnight. She cursed quietly and started to weasel out from under Holtzmann’s arm. She was going to have to call a cab home—she hated taking the subway this late. 

She had nearly made it out of the bed when Holtzmann grabbed her around the wrist. 

“Come on, stay the night,” she mumbled, sounding like she was half asleep—or even fully asleep, given that a snore escaped her lips not a second later. 

Erin looked down at the hand encircling her wrist, stomach flipping uneasily. She knew the right thing to do would be to go home for the night, to keep Holtzmann from getting the wrong idea…

She crawled back into the bed, this time unearthing the quilt from underneath Holtzmann’s feet and tugging it up over them.


	4. Chapter 4

Holtzmann shuffled out into the kitchen the next morning stifling a yawn behind her fist. 

“How long have there been arcade games there?” Erin asked, seated at the table. 

Holtzmann crossed behind her and lifted the coffee pot out. “Since always. The old tenants left them.” She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured the cold coffee from the night before into it.

“Seriously? How have I never noticed them?” Erin looked behind her. “That’s decaf,” she reminded her just as she was about to take a sip.

Holtzmann grumbled and set the mug down on the counter a little forcefully. Some of the coffee sloshed over the edge. “They’re not exactly subtle, with all the lights and stuff on them.” She wandered to the fridge and opened it.

“I only ever really come up here for the kitchen and Patty’s library. I’m not in the habit of hanging around here.”

Holtzmann emerged from the fridge with an energy drink. She popped the tab. “Maybe there’s some magic at play or something. Like there’s a perception filter on the entire back part of the third floor.” She picked up her mug again and poured about half the can of energy drink into the cold coffee. “Have you noticed that you don’t even look back here where my room is, or in the arcade corner? It’s like your eyes just skim right over it.” She took a sip of her concoction.

Erin grimaced. “That’s disgusting. And no, there’s no perception filter. I just never thought there was anything of note back here.”

“Right, just Holtzy’s home. Nothing important.”

“I didn’t even know you lived here,” Erin said. “You’re always here before me, and I just thought you were a morning person.”

“I’m really not,” Holtzmann said, lifting the mug. 

“I can see that now,” Erin said. “But it seemed perfectly reasonable. You’re already always here the latest of any of us—”

“Because I live here.”

“—so being here the earliest made sense too.” Erin thought about it a second. “Hold on, you’ve definitely come in later than me sometimes. And not from upstairs!”

Holtzmann raised an eyebrow and blew on her coffee as if it were hot. “Yes?”

“How do you explain _that?_ ”

Holtzmann stared at her over the rim of the mug. “I _have_ been known to sleep places other than my own bed on occasion.”

“Why would you sleep somewhere else if—oh.” Erin’s face turned beet red. “Um, yeah, of...course. Definitely. Right. That’s totally—uh, totally fine. Totally normal. Perfectly normal, and fine.”

“Is it?”

“Yes! Of course! I...do that too. Sometimes.” Erin fixed her gaze on the toaster like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.

“Do you?”

Erin tugged at her collar. “Of course. Maybe not…” She coughed. “ _Recently_. Or frequently. But obviously...sometimes.”

“Good, great, good for you,” Holtzmann said, slurping from her coffee. 

All the color drained from Erin’s face and she hopped up from the table.

“What? What’s wrong?” Holtzmann asked.

“I need to go home,” Erin said. “Shit. I need to get home and change and get back here before Abby and Patty get in and…”

Holtzmann threw her head back and let out a loud bark of laughter as she realized where Erin was going with that.

“Can you imagine what they’d think?” Erin said, already running for the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.”

“Run like the wind, little Erin,” Holtzmann said, giving her a parting salute.

Erin ran as fast as she could down both flights of stairs, then skidded to a stop on the first floor.

“Why hello, Erin,” Abby said, biting back a smile. “Did you spend the night?”

Patty was full-on grinning beside her.

“No! Of course not! I just, uhh...I…” Erin finger-gunned the two of them. “I made it all the way in before I realized I was wearing the same clothes as yesterday! Whoops, so embarrassing! So now I’m going to go home to change.”

“Wow, what are the odds of that?” Patty said. “You do that, Erin.”

Erin ducked around them and skittered off to the door. “See you in a bit.”

The second the door had slammed shut after her, the two exchanged a look.

“So,” Patty said, “ _now_ is it time to place our bets?”

“You’ve seen the whiteboard, right? It looks like Slimer yarfed all over it,” Abby said dryly. “Yeah. It’s time.”

-

“Oh good, you’re both here,” Kevin said. 

Holtzmann barely glanced up. “Hey Kev, whatever it is, can it wait? We’re kind of in the middle of something here.”

“Holtz, it’s accelerating,” Erin said, shifting uneasily with a Proton Pack 4.0 on her back. “At kind of an alarming rate.”

“Yeah, on it,” Holtzmann said. “You don’t take any kind of elemental supplements right?”

“This won’t take long,” Kevin said. “I just had a question for you.”

“Um, calcium?” Erin hazarded. 

Holtzmann waved her off. “That’s fine. Kev, if the question has anything to do with the phone, go ask Abby.”

“I’ve been taking iron as well,” Erin said. 

Holtzmann froze. “Bad, very bad. We _just_ figured out your iron level, Erin!”

“Oh, no, it’s not about the phones,” Kevin said.

“Yes, and my doctor said I’m bordering on anemic,” Erin said. “Hence the supplements.”

“Gotta recalculate.” Holtzmann scurried around her. “What’s the dose?”

“I was just wondering if you could tell me what day you’ll start dating.”

They both stopped and looked at Kevin.

“Holtz, it’s still accelerating,” Erin said through her teeth without taking her eyes off him. 

“Yep, yep, sorry,” Holtzmann said, darting around and madly taking a screwdriver to the side of the pack to get at the inner workings. 

“Also,” Kevin said, “if you could make it Thursday, I’ll win!”

Holtzmann froze, screwdriver still in the pack, and slowly made eye contact with Erin. 

-

“You _bet on us_?!”

Abby and Patty sprang apart from where they were standing and reading something out of the same book. Erin was the first one down the stairs, Holtzmann close behind her.

Patty smacked Abby’s arm. “I _told_ you we couldn’t trust him.”

“SooOOoorry for trying to be inclusive,” Abby said.

“I’m telling you, he never would have known.”

“You mean _we_ would’ve never known?” Erin spat. “Who the hell bets on their friends getting together? You put actual _money_ on whether or not we’d start dating? I can’t think of anything more demeaning!”

“I can think of lots,” Holtzmann said, finger tapping on her chin. “Guess it depends what the wager was. We talkin’ big bucks?”

“The bet wasn’t on _if_ ,” Abby said.

Patty elbowed her. “Stop. Talking.”

Erin crossed her arms. “So _when_? What, whoever guesses the right day wins?”

“Whoever comes closest,” Kevin piped up helpfully. “There’s a pool of money.”

“ _Kevin_ ,” both Abby and Patty hissed. 

“How big of a pool?” Holtzmann asked again.

“I’m not sure,” Kevin replied thoughtfully. “I’m not a very good swimmer, but Patty said that’s okay, so it must not be very deep.”

Abby pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes.

Holtzmann steepled her fingers under her chin and nodded. “Yes, that sounds right.”

“Erin, I’d just like to say for the record that it was not my idea to include Kevin,” Patty said. “Also that I’m sorry we bet on you.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Erin said, her voice taking on a higher pitch than normal. “In fact, I want in.”

Abby and Patty exchanged a glance. 

“Whoever comes closest to the date wins the money, correct?” Erin stomped over to her desk and reached into her purse for her wallet. She fished out a stack of bills and then came back, shoving them at Abby. “I don’t know, I think I’m really feeling September... _31st_.” She paused. “2092.”

Abby fiddled with the bills. “Erin…”

“Count me in as well,” Holtzmann announced. Then, to Erin, “Can I borrow some money?”

Erin gave her a look.

“I’ll just run to the ATM after this then,” Holtzmann said. “Anyway, I think I’m going to go with February 29th, in…” She looked up at the ceiling, mouthing to herself as she tried to calculate the leap years to avoid. “Shit. 2076? Maybe?” She turned her head to Erin again. “Er?”

Erin shook her head. “Better go with 2077.”

Holtzmann turned back to Abby and Patty. “You heard the woman. February 29th, 2077.”

“Great, well, now that we’re all on the same page,” Erin said. “ _I’m_ going home. Before anyone starts betting on anything else deeply personal about my life.”

She pushed past them, grabbing her purse and jacket, and then stormed out. The Firehouse shook as she slammed the door. 

“Between the four of us,” Holtzmann said behind her hand, “I’d like to go with 2076 after all. It’s not my style to write anything off entirely.” 

Then she winked and skipped back up the stairs. 

Abby whirled on Patty once she was gone. “So, what did we just learn?”

Patty glared at Kevin. “Some people can’t be trusted.”

“ _And_ that our very own Holtzmann is holding onto hope,” Abby said confidently, crossing her arms with a smile. 

“And that we should probably enroll Kevin in swimming lessons.”

“No, thank you,” Kevin said. “My psychic says the depths of the ocean contain my darkest demons.”

They both stare at him. 

“Patty?”

“Yeah, I’m on it.”

-

“Hey Patty, question for ya.”

“No, I’m not holding anything in place for you while you work. You know my pinkie nail has never grown back right?”

“I did tell you to wear gloves.”

Patty looked up from her book to see Holtzmann crouched on the couch across from her. 

“Baby, you know Owling hasn’t been a thing since 2011, right?”

“What’s Owling?” Holtzmann deadpanned. The corner of her mouth twitched microscopically. 

Patty closed her book. “What do you want to know?”

“You know what I want to know.”

“I’d like to hear it from you.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how to dodge miscommunication as a plot device.”

“No, that’s my question. Why?”

“Why’d we bet, or why do we care enough to bet to begin with?”

Holtzmann scoffed. “I know why you bet. What else is there to do for fun around here?” She climbed up onto the back of the couch and stretched out face down, arms by her sides. 

Patty rolled her eyes. 

“Why are you so obsessed with us?” Holtzmann said into the couch.

“Because it’s obvious to everyone but the two of you that y’all are into each other. And that you’d be great together. So why not?”

“Let’s say for a second that you’re right, that we _are_ both in deep denial about having feelings for each other, or whatever—we’re not, by the way—aren’t you still being like, a little too obsessey about this whole thing? Why are you pushing _so_ hard?”

“Like you said, there’s nothing to do around here.”

Holtzmann snorted.

“Really though,” Patty said, “you’re our best friends. We want you to be happy. And if you’d be perfect together, why wouldn’t we push to make it happen?”

“What makes you think we’re so made for each other? She’s not my type, and I’m not hers. We couldn’t be more different.”

“Holtzy, you ever heard of the phrase _opposites attract_?”

“I think it came up in our magnets unit in elementary school.”

Patty sighed.

Holtzmann abruptly fell off the back of the couch and landed behind it with a thud. Patty didn’t even flinch.

She popped back up a second later, propping her elbows on the couch. “So what date did you go with?”

Patty opened her book again. “Nuh uh. Not a chance I’m telling you that.”

“Well, now there’s no way for me to throw it to whoever I like the most.”

“Believe me, I can win without cheating,” Patty said.

“If you change your mind…” Holtzmann gave her the ‘call me’ sign.

-

There had been slow but constant knocking at Erin’s door for several minutes now. She was incredibly annoyed by the time she finally reached it and yanked it open. 

“Finally, I was two thirds of the way through the Norwegian national anthem and running out of material. Ooh nice Snuggie.”

Erin gaped. “ _Holtzmann?_ ”

“Did you buy it directly from the shopping channel on TV? That seems like a very Erin Gilbert move.”

Erin numbly touched her chest and looked down. “I—I was in the middle of taking a bath. My robe is in the laundry. I don’t usually...wear this.”

Holtzmann gazed at her over the rims of her glasses. “Does that mean you’re going commando under the Snuggie?”

Erin turned red. “Of course not.”

“So yes.”

“What are you doing here?”

“You know, I would’ve just answered the door in a towel,” Holtzmann said. “Less shameful.”

“I thought you were my landlord.”

“Ew, and you answered anyway?”

Erin stared at her. “I’ve never given you my address.”

“No, you haven’t,” Holtzmann agreed. She held up the takeout bag hanging from her wrist. “Thai?”

Without waiting for a response, she pushed past Erin into the apartment and flopped onto the couch like she owned the place. She dropped the takeout bag on the coffee table and tore a hole in the plastic instead of bothering untying the top. 

Erin stood at the door a moment longer, then shut it and turned slowly. “Holtzmann.”

“Don’t tell me they forgot the napkins,” Holtzmann whined as she unpacked the bag. “That’s upsetting. Do you have napkins?”

“Do I have _napkins?_ ”

“Paper towel will do if not. Or toilet paper.”

Erin opened a drawer in her kitchen and then came and dumped some scraps of fabric in Holtzmann’s lap. 

She lifted one. “What is this?”

“Napkins,” Erin said tiredly. 

Holtzmann frowned. “Erin. Why do you have five-star-restaurant napkins?”

“They’re just cloth napkins, Holtz. They’re not unusual. They’re not even my nice set.”

“You have more than one set of restaurant napkins?”

Erin counted on her fingers. “Two sets of day-to-day, fancy, autumn, Christmas, and summer.”

“You have six sets of restaurant napkins. Okay, Monica Geller. Please enlighten me as to what occasion one might need fancy napkins for that’s not already covered by one of the seasonal ones.”

“New Year’s Eve, a formal dinner party,” Erin listed, “the Mayor comes over, any kind of party…”

“Do you have fine china too?”

“Of course,” Erin said. 

Holtzmann perked up. “Can I use some for my dinner?”

“It’s in storage.”

Holtzmann squinted at her. “No it’s not.”

“Holtzmann, I don’t know how to say this without offending you, but there is not a chance in hell you are ever laying a finger on my good china. Or even breathing on it. Or looking at it.”

“Okay, but am I at least allowed think about it?”

Erin considered that. “No.”

“Drat.”

“Holtz, why are you here?”

Holtzmann looked down at the containers of food, then back up at Erin. “Dinner.”

“But why?”

“Well, ’cause you stormed off super angrily earlier. And then wouldn’t answer your phone for the rest of the day.”

“I left it at the shooting range,” Erin said. “I didn’t realize until I got home and by that point it was closed for the day.”

Holtzmann pried open the lid of one of the containers. “Then why is it on your counter?”

Erin’s eye twitched. “That’s...someone else’s phone.”

Holtzmann pinched a noodle with her fingers and shoved it in her mouth. “Okay.”

“You’re really going to brush past the shooting range thing?”

“No, that’s easily the most believable thing I’ve ever heard about you.” Holtzmann licked her fingers off. “Want me to set up more ghost targets for you on the roof so you can go play whenever you’re feeling trigger happy?”

“I already do that,” Erin admitted with a blush. “If you want to make me some new toys, though…”

Holtzmann nodded once. “We’ll talk later.” She opened up another container. “Do you have forks?”

“Did they forget those too?”

“Nah, they did, I just want to see how fancy your forks are. Unless you have more than one set of those, too.”

“Of course I have a set of nice silverware for special occasions,” Erin said. “My regular set is completely normal.”

“Did you get yours from little baggies of miscellaneous cutlery from Value Village over several trips? If not, they’re not ‘normal.’” She did air quotes on the word.

“Well, I’m not a college student, so no, I did not,” Erin said. “Holtz, what are you doing here?”

“I feel like we’ve covered the answer to that question from multiple angles,” Holtzmann said. “Food’s getting cold. You gonna sit?”

With a resigned sigh, Erin went to grab plates and cutlery from the kitchen. “How did you know where I live? _Abby_ doesn’t even know where I live. And she’s technically my emergency contact.”

Holtzmann disregarded the offered plate but took a fork and examined it. “It’s on your payroll paperwork.”

Erin dropped onto the couch beside her. “That’s confidential! Only the Mayor’s office is supposed to see that!”

Holtzmann slurped up a noodle. “I know your Social Security number too.”

“ _Holtzmann_.”

“And your banking info.”

Erin emptied a container of food onto a plate a little forcefully. “So you’re going to steal my identity tomorrow?”

“Not _tomorrow_ ,” Holtzmann replied thoughtfully as she chewed. “It’ll take a few more days of planning.”

Erin grumbled to herself as she stabbed her fork into the food. “You’re so annoying.”

“ _Thank you, Holtzmann, for bringing me dinner!”_

“I already ate dinner.” Erin shoved the fork in her mouth. 

“It’s 6:30pm.”

“Yes.”

“And you were taking a bath when I got here, which means you ate...before that?”

“Yes.”

“Erin, can I ask you a serious question?” Holtzmann took another mouthful of food. “Just how old _are_ you?”

Erin glared at her.

“I’m kidding,” Holtzmann said. “Your date of birth is on your payroll forms too.”

“That’s it, get out of my apartment. I was having a _perfectly nice bath_ —”

Holtzmann knocked shoulders with her. “How well were your stress-busting activities workin’ for you today?”

Erin huffed. “Not well. I was distracted at the range, and someone interrupted my bath.”

“You know it’s love, right?”

Erin froze. “What?”

“Abby and Patty love us a lot. And they’re just having a bit of fun.”

Erin relaxed back down. “Oh. Right. Well...it doesn’t feel like fun. It feels offensive.”

“Of course it’s _offensive_. But it’s also kind of sweet.”

“It’s not sweet. It’s verging on creepy. They’re trying to force us together.”

“They’re excited for us.”

“We don’t have any interest in dating each other,” Erin snapped. 

Holtzmann shrank back a bit. “Yeah, you’ve made that clear.”

Erin left her fork in her food and stared at the black TV screen. “So have you.”

Holtzmann fidgeted with her necklace and looked everywhere but Erin. “Sorry for coming here and bothering you,” she said after a long pause. “I can...leave.”

“No, don’t be stupid.” Erin set her plate down on the coffee table with a clatter. “It’s not your fault that you didn’t know I’m not hungry.”

Holtzmann turned her head, eyes narrowing. She slowly lowered her takeout container. “Right,” she said. “It’s not _my_ fault that you usually give every indication that you’re hungry.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

Holtzmann shrugged one shoulder.

There was a beat, and then Erin covered her face with her hands and groaned. “They’re getting in our heads.”

Holtzmann began to laugh. “I hate fighting with you, Er. Can we just be normal?”

“Please,” Erin said. “I’m over it. If Abby and Patty want to be lunatics, whatever. I’m not letting it get in the way of my friendship with you.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, but only because the next one is really long and I can't split it up!

“Good morning Abby, Patty,” Erin said cheerfully as she strode into HQ the next morning.

“You’re awfully chipper compared to yesterday,” Abby commented suspiciously. “Did something happen?”

“I had a lovely evening,” Erin explained. “Holtzmann came over for dinner.”

Abby choked on her coffee. “Really?”

“Yes.” Erin hummed to herself as she crossed the room to her desk. 

Abby quickly turned on Patty. “You think that—”

“She’s fucking with us,” Patty said. 

Abby’s face fell. “Dang it, really?”

At that moment, the ghost alarm started blaring through the Firehouse. The two of them both looked over their shoulders at Kevin behind them, just hanging up the phone. 

Erin threw up her hands. “Really? Before coffee?”

“There’s a ghost at a factory for cheesecakes,” Kevin announced.

Abby squinted at him. “A factory for cheesecakes, or the Cheesecake Factory?”

“That’s what they said.”

“Helpful, Kev, thank you,” Patty said, and headed for her change room.

Holtzmann came flying down the fire pole. “Whadda we got?”

“Cheesecakes,” Kevin said. 

“Oh, you shouldn’t have,” Holtzmann replied gleefully. She began unbuttoning her shirt.

Erin caught sight of her and threw a hand over her eyes. “Holtz, really? Why do you think we built change rooms?”

“For the more modest members of our team,” Holtzmann replied, shimmying out of her shirt and grabbing her jumpsuit off the door. 

-

The call ended up coming from neither a cheesecake factory nor The Cheesecake Factory. It actually came from a small drug store, Chesapeake Pharmacy. 

“You think we should invest in a hearing exam for Kevin?” Abby asked as they unloaded the car.

Erin shook her head. “I asked him once. He said his glasses were fine as is.”

“Maybe if we put the glass back in them it’ll help,” Holtzmann quipped as she buckled on her proton pack.

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Patty muttered. 

The inside of the pharmacy was a disaster. There were products all over the floor, shelves knocked over, a terrified employee hiding under the front counter, and at the back of the store the ghost was wreaking havoc behind the pharmacy counter. 

“Help!” the pharmacist shouted as the ghost opened containers of various medications and dumped them on the floor. 

They crept down the messy aisle, climbing over felled shelves, trying not to alert the ghost to their presence. He seemed plenty occupied. He shook a container of capsules into his gaping mouth, and they fell through his body and scattered on the floor with the rest.

“Former addict, or poor depressed bastard?” Holtzmann asked under her breath.

“Maybe it hurts,” Erin murmured, staring at him. “Maybe he’s in pain.”

The other three exchanged uneasy glances. 

Abby lifted the barrel of her proton gun. “Let’s take him down easy, alright?”

Except at that moment, he whirled on them and roared, eyes glowing red, and began pelting them with heavy containers of chemical compounds.

“Jesus fuck,” Patty shouted as the four of them dropped to hide behind the counter. “He did _not_.”

“Don’t do drugs,” Holtzmann called over at the ghost as a container crashed to the floor in front of her and burst open, spilling white powder everywhere. 

“That’s it, I’m going in,” Erin said, popping up and hopping the counter. Pills crunched under her boots as she landed on the other side and pulled the trigger. A proton beam shot out of her gun and encircled the ghost, but it wasn’t strong enough. He broke out of his restraint and lunged at her. 

Holtzmann leapt over the counter and threw herself at Erin, knocking her out of the way and sending her flying to the ground. She landed on the ground herself as she fired a proton stream at the ghost, soon to be joined by two others as Abby and Patty caught up. She tugged a trap off the back of her pack and shoved it across the pill-littered floor, then fumbled for the controls on her armband that released the foot controls. 

Abby was closer to the pedal when it sprang from the trap, and slammed her boot down on it. 

The three of them wrangled the ghost into the waiting trap with practiced ease, and Abby quickly shut it behind him. The pharmacy fell quiet except for their ragged breaths. 

Holtzmann looked behind her to see Erin slumped against one of the shelves, eyes closed, bleeding out of a cut on her forehead. 

“Shit. _Shit_. Erin?” She scrambled closer. She looked over her shoulder. “Abby?!”

Abby rushed over and stooped, lifting Erin’s hand and pressing two fingers to the underside of her wrist. Meanwhile, Patty hopped the counter again and jogged amongst the debris in search of the gauze and bandage aisle. 

“It’s fine. A little fast, actually, but probably no faster than ours are right now,” Abby said, releasing Erin’s wrist. “The cut on her forehead looks shallow.”

“It wasn’t even the ghost,” Holtzmann said. “It was me.”

“The ghost would’ve done worse,” Abby replied grimly. 

Patty returned with her hands full, and was already ripping open packaging. 

The pharmacist had joined them too. “I’ll have Lionel call 911,” she said.

Patty passed a wad of gauze to Abby, who positioned it over the cut on Erin’s forehead and pressed down, holding it in place.

“She’ll be fine,” Patty said. “I’m sure she’ll have a concussion.”

“Maybe it’ll knock some sense into her,” Abby muttered.

“I can hear you,” Erin mumbled.

“See? She’s already awake,” Patty said. 

Holtzmann sighed and staggered to her feet, then stepped back out of the way.

-

Erin woke up to a lumpy twin mattress under her back, boxes surrounding her, and a wire running above her head. She frowned into the dark. 

Holtzmann was seated at the kitchen table stripping wires. She lifted her head and looked behind her. “Erin?” she asked at a quiet-enough volume that it wouldn’t wake her if she was just tossing in her sleep. 

“Holtz?” came the sleepy voice back. 

She dropped everything in her hands and leapt up, stopping just outside the arch leading to the bunk. “How are you feeling?”

“Why am I in your bed?”

“You put up a stink about going to the hospital, so we brought you back here and the Mayor sent a doctor over,” Holtzmann replied with amusement. “Don’t you remember?”

“Vaguely. I don’t remember coming up here, though.”

“No, well.” Holtzmann tugged on her ear. “I suggested it. It’s dark up here, and I thought...for your head…”

“Do I have a concussion?”

“Doc said that if you do, it’s probably minor. Wasn’t too concerned.”

“Awesome,” Erin said with a sigh.

“You can go back to sleep,” Holtzmann said. “I’ll keep an eye on you. Make sure you don’t die in your sleep.”

“Thanks, Holtz,” Erin said, intending to sound sarcastic only for it to come out half-genuine.

“Sleep, Erin,” Holtzmann repeated, backing away and plunking herself back down at the table.

-

Erin felt fine, but she ended up taking the next day off work, if only because she hadn’t taken a day off since her Columbia days (and even then, rarely). She started out the morning watching TV, then quickly found out that nothing of interest aired during the day, so she ended up digging out some old textbooks and doing some work anyway. She started out enjoying working in silence for once, but after a few hours she realized she was struggling to focus without the background noise of the Firehouse. She ended up finding a playlist of 80s pop on Youtube and playing it on her laptop in the background to try and emulate Holtzmann’s lab, and that helped. 

Her phone rang just after lunch, startling her out of her work. Her caller ID announced loudly that it was an unknown number. After a moment’s hesitation, she got up and went to snag the handset out of the dock.

“Hello, Gilbert residence?”

“Did you know you’re the only one in this hallowed country who still has a landline?”

Erin blinked. “Holtz?”

“Also, love the fact that you answered ‘Gilbert residence’ as if more than one Gilbert lives there. You’re too cute. Never change.”

“I have a...fish,” Erin mumbled, cheeks turning red. “How did you get this number? If you say my personnel file—”

“No, phone book. It was easy, because yours was the only name in it. Y’know, because nobody has landlines anymore?”

“Yeah, I got it. Why didn’t you phone my cell?”

“This is way more fun. Also you weren’t responding to my texts.”

Erin walked back over to her desk and picked up her cell. “Shoot. Sorry, looks like I don’t have the sound on. I was busy working and haven’t checked it in a few hours.”

“ _Working?_ Aren’t you supposed to be relaxing?”

“I...whatever. Shush.” Erin straightened up. “Why are you calling? What’s going on? Is everything okay? Is there a ghost call or something?”

On the other end there was what sounded like a blender starting. “Everything’s peachy. I just miss you.”

“Oh.” Erin sat back down at her desk and set her cell down on top of her notebook. “I miss you, too.”

“Everything is boring without you here.”

Erin laughed. “That can’t be true. I’m usually one who sucks the fun out of everything, aren’t I?”

“That’s what’s fun. Having an audience for my antics. You’re the only one who actually reacts.” Holtzmann sighed wistfully. “Patty won’t set foot near my lab, and Abby just rolls her eyes. It’s sad.”

“How many fires today?”

“Just three,” Holtzmann replied. “Oh, shit—that’s four. One sec.” There was a bunch of scuffling and then the familiar whoosh of a fire extinguisher discharging. A few seconds later, Holtzmann came back. “Schwoops. I leaned down on the table and knocked over a blowtorch. Were you really attached to that notebook of yours with the blue cover?”

“You’re at my desk?”

“No, I just stole a few of your things to make it seem like you’re here. I even built a little makeshift Erin out of some PVC pipe I had lying around. It’s wearing your hoodie and I blew up a photo of your face.”

“I really hope you mean _blew up_ as in _enlarged_.”

“Of course. Although it did get in the way of fire number two of the day, so one of your ears is a bit charred.”

The blender noise happened in the background again.

“What is that? Are you making smoothies?” Erin asked.

“Oh that? No, I’m running some tests on a batch of ectoplasm. Trying to see if it changes consistency when blended.”

“Why?”

“I’m bored! You’re home sick and it sucks.”

“Sorry that my head wound and minor concussion are an inconvenience for you,” Erin teased.

“You want me to bring ya anything? A burrito? Ectoplasm smoothie?”

“Are those my only two options?”

“No, I’ll give you one more because one of them isn’t edible. Uhhh...snow cone?”

“Honestly? A snow cone sounds great right now.”

“ON IT!” Holtzmann shouted in her ear. 

Erin laughed.

-

“Where’s the fire?” Abby said as Holtzmann tore past her.

Holtzmann barely slowed, but turned and hopped backwards. “Oh, no, I put it out already. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s an expression,” Abby started to say, but Holtzmann was already at the door. 

“Taking a snow cone to Erin, back in a bit,” she called.

The door slammed shut behind her. 

“Did she just say what I thought she said?” Patty yelled from upstairs.

“Yep,” Abby yelled back, then sighed to herself. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of all over the place! Hope you like it

“Ooh, it’s rainbow!” Erin said with delight, taking the snow cone that Holtzmann handed her. She’d texted her instructions to meet in the park; after being cooped up inside her apartment all day, she was ready for some fresh air. 

“Erin Gilbert,” Holtzmann said with an amused shake of her head. “You’re the only straight woman I know who gets as excited as me about rainbow things.”

Erin had taken her first spoonful of her snow cone, but froze with it hovering just in front of her mouth. “What? I’m not straight.”

Holtzmann, on the other hand, had started to lick hers directly. “Wha?” she said, eyes wide, tongue stuck to the ice. 

“I’m not straight?”

Holtzmann recovered and pulled her tongue from the snow cone. “Since _when?_ ”

“Always?” Erin popped her spoon into her mouth and winced at the temperature. She had sensitive teeth. “How did you not know that?”

“How could I have known that? Do Abby and Patty know?”

“Abby does. I’ve never explicitly discussed it with Patty, but I’m sure she knows. Patty knows everything.”

“Does Kevin know?”

“Holtz, Kevin doesn’t even know that _you’re_ gay.”

“Of course he does. I’ve talked about it with him before.”

“Really? Because last week, before the bet, he asked me if you were single.”

Holtzmann rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I might have to get him a picture book about _our diverse families_ or something. ‘This is Holtzmann. She’s a raging lesbian, which means men are a no-no. That means you, Kevin.’”

“Although, to be fair, it’s Kevin—so who knows why he was asking. He probably thinks you need to be single to ride on a rollercoaster, or something.”

“That’s spot-on Kevin right there. Bet that’s it.” Holtzmann planted the biggest spoonful of snow cone in her mouth. “Back to the bigger point here: you’re not straight.”

“Why are you stuck on this? No. I’m not. Why would you think I was? You’ve literally seen me flirt with women before.”

“Huh? No. When? Wait. Really?”

“Yes.” Erin took another bite of snow cone and tried to think of an example. She pointed her spoon at Holtzmann. “Oh, that real estate agent in the haunted condo building?”

“That was _flirting?_ You nearly broke your wrist tripping over something because she asked you a question. I thought you were intimidated by her.”

“I was,” Erin replied defensively. “She was hot.”

“I feel like my entire life is a lie,” Holtzmann said dramatically, flopping onto a nearby park bench. 

Erin sat down next to her. “Why? It’s not like it changes anything.”

“Yes it does! This whole time I couldn’t understand what Abby and Patty were getting at, because I thought you were straight, and my number one rule is don’t fall for straight girls. But now I find out you’re not even straight?”

“But I’m...still me,” Erin said, heart thumping. “What, you mean the only thing keeping you from...falling for me...was that you thought I was straight?”

Holtzmann shoveled more of her snow cone into her mouth. “No,” she said, “but...I dunno. Whatever.” 

They ate quietly for a few minutes. 

Something occurred to Holtzmann. “That first conversation we had about us, you said I wasn’t your type. ‘Like, _really_ not your type.’ I assumed you meant because I wasn’t a man.”

Erin polished off the last of her cone and tossed the garbage into the can beside her. “No.”

“So what did you mean, then?”

“That you’re just...not my type? Same as you.”

“Well what is your type?”

Erin swallowed. “I...don’t know.”

Holtzmann gave her a hurt stare. “So you don’t know what your type is, you just know that I’m not it. Nice.”

“That’s not...what I meant.” Erin crossed her arms. “What about you, huh? You said I’m not yours either—why not? Why don’t you like me?”

Holtzmann shifted uncomfortably. “I...uh...I dunno,” she mumbled. “There’s not really...anything in particular.”

“Cool, so it’s just something about me in general that’s unappealing to you,” Erin said, equally hurt. She looked firmly off in the distance and willed herself not to cry. 

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, I get it. I’m not surprised. I don’t know why anyone _would_ want to date me.”

Holtzmann laughed once, nervously. “You kidding? _I’m_ the one who’s not girlfriend material. You know how many girls have told me that? So many.”

“Don’t start. I’ve seen how many phone numbers you’ve gotten since I met you. Girls want you. And guys. And...Kevin, maybe.”

“So what if people are attracted to me? Nobody wants to _date_ me. People want to date you.”

Now Erin laughed. “Who?”

“You’ve had boyfriends before.”

“Oh, yeah, asshole losers who treated me like crap,” Erin said, staring down at her feet. “They didn’t even like me.”

“Well, they were fucking idiots,” Holtzmann said sharply. “How could anyone not like you?”

“ _You_ don’t.”

“But that’s—” Holtzmann broke off and groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Erin, you’re amazing, okay? You’re _so_ datable.” She lifted her head. “You’re gorgeous, and funny, and smart—”

“Not as smart as you.”

“Present genius excluded, you’re smarter than everyone else on the fucking planet.” Holtzmann paused and sighed. “See? Look at that. I’m obnoxious, overly cocky, and way too full of myself. Who’d want that?”

“You’re not _cocky_ , you’re _confident_ ,” Erin said, “and I’d kill to have your confidence. I have no self-esteem at all and I’m insecure to a fault.”

“ _You?_ Erin Gilbert? You’re one of the most confident people I’ve ever met.”

Erin burst out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m not,” Holtzmann said earnestly. “You know what my first impression of you was?”

“That I was uptight and had a stick up my butt? Probably that I was rude and a bit of a bitch? That I needed to be messed with?”

“Well...yes. Sure. A bit.” Holtzmann shrugged. “That is kind of the vibe you gave off. But I also watched you march into our lab to confront a woman who you hadn’t seen in what, 20 years? Do you know how many people could never do that? I couldn’t. But there you were, marching on in with your head held high. I knew you as the woman who broke my best friend’s heart, so yeah, I guess I already had a first impression of you. But my actual first impression? I was impressed by you. Really impressed.”

“That’s…” Erin blushed and dropped her head. “Really?”

“You were so confident, Erin. And you are in lots of other ways, too. Shit, the way you flirted with Kevin without even a hint of embarrassment? The way you rock those God-awful tweed suits? Nobody wears those, Erin. But you wear them, and you rock them. And you made a phenomenal professor. You’re one of the best lecturers I’ve ever heard.”

“You’ve never heard me lecture.”

Holtzmann nodded. “I got curious. Watched a few online.”

Erin blinked twice. “What? Where? How?”

“Youtube.”

“ _Youtube?_ ”

“It’s an online video streaming platform,” Holtzmann said.

“I know what Youtube is, Holtz. Why are my lectures there?”

Holtzmann shrugged. “I don’t know, students taping your lectures for studying, or something. Who knows. It’s not uncommon. There were only a couple.”

“Oh my gosh. I don’t know whether to be flattered or peeved off,” Erin said. “Wait, and you watched them?”

“You’re great, Erin. One of the best public speakers I’ve ever heard. I could never do that. I actually had a teaching requirement at Higgins—both Abby and I did—but my teaching load got revoked after half my students complained to the administration.”

Erin grimaced. “But I’ve heard you speak. You give great speeches.”

“Small groups, maybe. Large crowds, I’m a disaster.”

“I can’t imagine you being a disaster at anything,” Erin said. “You’re so naturally good at everything you do. _You’re_ the confident one. You’re more confident than anyone else I know.”

“I don’t know why you think that,” Holtzmann said. “I’ve been faking it ’til I make it for my entire life.”

Erin shook her head. “You’re...you...you don’t care at all what anybody thinks of you. You go through life just living the way you want to live. You wear whatever you want, no matter what it looks like—you can say all you want that I’m confident for wearing my suits, but I only wore those because I thought that’s what I was supposed to wear. I thought that’s what I needed to wear to be taken seriously as a tenure-track professor. I hated it. You would never do that. You wear what you want to wear. You throw together these wacky outfits and you don’t care what people think about them.”

“That’s not really...true. I just wear what I feel comfortable in. Yeah, sure, there are certain items that I gravitate to, and I’ll keep stuff that looks cool to me, but only if it’s comfy. I don’t pay attention to what I’m wearing. I just throw it on.”

“Yeah, exactly, and you don’t care what people think.”

“You’ve really gotta stop saying that.”

“But it’s true. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“Erin.”

“I wish I was more like you. I wish I didn’t care desperately what people thought about me. I wish I could let it roll off me like you do.”

“I care, okay? I care.” Holtzmann rubbed her neck and scuffed her boot in the dirt in front of her. “I just have a good poker face.”

Erin stared at her. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m not a robot,” Holtzmann said quietly. “I feel things. When someone laughs at me, I feel it. When someone says I’m a little much, I feel it. When someone calls me weird or crazy, I feel it.”

Erin’s brow furrowed. She gently touched Holtzmann’s arm.

“I don’t let it _roll off me_ ,” Holtzmann said. “I roll _with_ it. I amp up the weird and crazy. I turn _a little much_ into _obnoxious_. I make jokes or do funny voices or characters because that way I’m making people laugh on purpose, and they’re not laughing at _me_ for who I am.”

“Holtz…”

“I care. And I’m a big ole faker. This is me _trying_ to fit in and be normal. This is carefully curated. It’s a character, Erin.”

Erin’s hand fell from Holtzmann’s arm. “Hold on, this is you _trying_ to fit in? Why would you do that?”

“There’s only a certain amount of _me_ -ness that’s considered quirky and fun, and then it crosses a line and nobody likes it anymore. I accidentally cross that line all the time.”

“That’s not true,” Erin protested. 

“Sure it is. You want to know what me unfiltered is like?”

Erin nodded eagerly.

“It isn’t cute or cool or charming,” Holtzmann warned. “It’s what happens when you _really_ don’t care at all about the world around you. I’ve done it before. Right around the time I finished school. I decided I didn’t want to try to cram myself into society anymore. I basically became an inventing hermit. I didn’t eat when humans usually ate. I didn’t bathe. I didn’t talk to anyone. I pretty much disappeared from this realm entirely. And you know what? It let me break just about every known law of physics in the universe in my work. Because as far as I was concerned, there weren’t laws to the universe anymore.”

“Wait, what? What do you mean, you broke every law of physics?”

“Your pupils are so dilated right now, Gilbert. Did I just awaken something in you?”

Erin opened and closed her mouth. She tugged on her sleeve. “No, I just...want to know what you mean.”

“I’d love to tell you, but according to at least five different intelligence agencies worldwide, I’m not allowed to.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“I couldn’t tell you even if I wasn’t bound to secrecy under penalty of death,” Holtzmann said. “I can’t remember, but I’m pretty sure after they raided my trailer and interrogated me, they gave me some experimental memory drugs that selectively tampered with my brain a bit. I mean, I had a really stellar memory before that, so it probably didn’t have the effect it would have on someone dumber than me, but still. There may have also been a hypnotherapist. Can’t remember.”

“I...what?”

“I _do_ know there was an entire line of questioning about whether or not I was a time traveler from the future.”

Erin blinked at her. “I can’t tell if you’re joking. You’re joking, right?”

“Not at all,” Holtzmann said. “Cross my heart. I’m telling you, I made scientific advances that won’t be possible on this planet for at least another hundred years or more. They had legitimate reason to believe I had come back in time from the future.”

Erin laughed. “There’s no way any of this happened.”

“Fine, don’t believe me. Ghosts exist, aliens exist, but oh, of course the TIA wouldn’t seriously consider time travel as a viable option. Come to think of it, I have a nagging suspicion that time travel was one of the things I was working on. I’m pretty sure I didn’t crack it, but I think I was close. Actually, I think that was my actual defense—that I couldn’t be a time traveler, because I hadn’t invented it yet.” Holtzmann chuckled.

“I’m sorry, the TIA? You mean _C_ IA?”

Holtzmann froze. “Uh. Yes. Yes, I meant the CIA.” She coughed and looked sharply at Erin. “Actually, I _said_ CIA. You misheard me.”

Erin sighed. “This is the weirdest conversation we’ve ever had. I’m still positive you’re messing with me.”

“Fine. You ever seen a man, mid-forties, short brown hair, nondescript clothing, hanging out in front of the Firehouse?”

“I see dozens of men like that every day.”

“Nah, this one is always there. I’m sure you’ve seen him. His name is Tim. He’s my FBI agent.”

Erin laughed again. “Sure, Holtz.”

“Keep an eye out for him. Now that you know to look, you’ll see him. He’s been hanging around me for the last decade, keeping tabs. I send him an anonymous Christmas card every year.”

“You...know the mailing address of your assigned FBI agent?”

“Yeah, of course. Computer security in this country is a joke.”

“He’s...in the FBI.”

“Yeah, FBI security is a joke, too.”

Erin glanced down at Holtzmann’s pocket. “I can’t believe I’m playing along with this, but how do you know they haven’t tapped your phone or anything?”

“It used to be, but I got downgraded on the international security threat list after a couple years. I think they got tired of listening to me talk. I spent two years barely taking a single breath, reciting entire seasons of TV shows, reading the dictionary out loud, singing badly at the top of my lungs, all in the hopes that they’d get annoyed into leaving me alone. It actually worked.”

“Wow. Well.” Erin shook her head. “This was a lot of information to get in five minutes.”

Holtzmann’s expression softened again. “My point with all of that was that it didn’t matter that my door was broken down and my trailer was burned to the ground. They should’ve saved themselves the time. I would’ve been dead within a few weeks anyway.”

Erin sucked in a breath.

“Turns out some of the conventions of being human actually do serve a purpose,” Holtzmann said. “Like keeping you alive and functioning. So I came back down to earth. But I still keep my head just enough in the clouds to keep things interesting. You have to be able to see beyond the rules in order to make any kind of true scientific progress.”

Erin hung her head. “Yeah. I know. It’s why I wish I wasn’t such a rule-stickler. I wish I could think outside the box like you do.”

“Hey, you think outside the box. You’ve made your own scientific strides by looking beyond what’s been conventionally possible. Just...barely. The horizon you look at is a lot closer than the one I reach for. And that’s okay too.”

Erin bit her lip.

“Anyway,” Holtzmann said with a nervous laugh. “Now you know my secret.”

“What, that you’re an international security threat and even more of a genius than I thought you were?”

“That too, but I was going for the fact that I’m not who you thought I was.”

“Because you actually do care what people think about you?”

“Yeah. I’m a fraud. You probably like me even less now, right?”

“Holtz.” Erin laid a hand on her arm again. “You saying that, showing some vulnerability, admitting you get insecure too—that made you more human to me.”

“You thought I was a robot too, huh?”

“Not a robot. But...even you said that this is a character. I don’t get to see vulnerable Holtz very often. You’re always so…”

“Obnoxious, loud, insensitive…”

“Yes, okay? You are those things. You are...a lot. I won’t deny that. But I...I’ve never found myself wanting _less_ of you. I could never sit here and say that you’re a little too much, because I don’t think there’s a such thing as too much Holtz.”

Holtzmann held her gaze. “That’s not true.”

“It is. Because not only do I not want less of you, I want…more.”

“Why would you want more? I don’t even want more of myself.”

“Because you’re…” Erin balled her free fist up. “Even if this is a character, even if you hide behind a persona or a bunch of jokes, even if the version of you that you present to the world isn’t the same as the version who’d you’d be if you truly didn’t care what the world wanted from you—even if that’s all true, you’re still the most authentic person I’ve ever known.”

“Don’t,” Holtzmann warned. “Don’t go there.”

“It’s true.”

“No. It’s not. You’re going to tell me that Patty doesn’t live her life in the most Patty way possible? That she isn’t authentic?”

“Of course she is—”

“And what about Abby, huh? Abby, who wears her heart on a sleeve, will tell you to your face when she doesn’t like you, and will probably leave this earth yelling about soup? Is she inauthentic?”

“No, of course not, I never said—”

“Kevin? You think Kevin isn’t exactly who Kevin is? You think he’s anything but what he puts out into the world?”

“No. Definitely not.”

“What about you, Erin? You’re more Erin Gilbert than you think you are.”

“I spent years trying to be someone else and changing parts of myself for people,” Erin argued. “How is that authentic?”

“Because that sounds like quintessential Erin Gilbert to me.”

Erin stared at her shoes. “Because trying to be someone else is what makes me _me?_ Nice.”

“Hey. Takes one to know one. I called myself a faker earlier because I’m not really the Holtzmann you have in your head. But that’s what makes me authentic, right?” Holtzmann drummed her fingers on her thigh. “Everybody on this planet is authentic. Even so-called fake people. They’re still showing who they are inside. By being over the top and refusing to be vulnerable or let anyone get close to the real me, that’s me being true to myself. Because that’s who I am. A deflecting, insecure weirdo. Just like you’re an anxious, insecure mess who cares too much what people think of you.”

“Gee, Holtz, you always know what to say,” Erin said sarcastically.

“I am notorious for always saying the wrong thing,” Holtzmann said. “You know that. And you’re not listening to me. I’m saying that we’re the same.”

Erin laughed. “We’re not the same.”

“We both act however we think will get people to like us better.”

“That’s…” Erin trailed off, blinking. “Kind of true. Are we the same?”

Holtzmann shrugged one shoulder. “We’re different in a lot of ways, but when it comes down to it, yeah, we do have some core similarities.”

Erin watched a bird wade through a puddle and tried to wrap her head around that. “It’s just, I’ve never thought of us as being alike in any way.”

Holtzmann snorted. “You’re telling me.”

“I didn’t even think we had anything in common. Except our interest in the paranormal.”

“That doesn’t count. That’s work.”

“That’s what _I_ said!” Erin started laughing. Holtzmann joined her.

Their laughter faded, leaving the two of them gazing into the distance.

“We’re also both queer, so there’s that,” Holtzmann mused.

“That’s not really something in common,” Erin argued.

Holtzmann leaned back with her hands behind her head. “Fine, I’ll give you that. Our delight of rainbows, then?”

Erin clicked her tongue. “Now I finally get what Abby and Patty have been saying. We _are_ perfect for one another. We both like rainbows.”

Holtzmann chuckled. “Can I ask you a question?”

“After this rollercoaster of a conversation? I guess…”

“Why do you laugh at all my jokes?”

Erin frowned at her. “I don’t understand the question. Because they’re jokes?”

“Yeah, but you laugh at the ones that aren’t even funny.”

“Well I… _I_ think they’re funny. I think you’re always funny.”

“I’m not always funny.”

“Well, you’re always trying to make me laugh.”

“I…don’t know about _always_ ,” Holtzmann mumbled.

There was a pause. “Why do you always give me first pick of sidearms? Or have me test new tech first?”

“You have the longest arms,” Holtzmann replied automatically.

“That doesn’t seem like it applies in all scenarios.”

“Fine, you…you get really excited about new tech. More so than the others. They’re usually scared, but you…trust me.”

“Of course I trust you.”

“And you always tell me I did a great job. You rave about whatever it is I’ve made, even if it’s not that great or it’s super buggy or makes you lose your favorite scarf.”

“That wasn’t your fault.”

“It kind of really was.” Holtzmann paused, thinking. “Why do you squeeze my arm all the time?”

“What?” Erin let out a burst of laughter. “Squeeze your arm? I don’t squeeze your arm.”

“Yuh huh.” Holtzmann scooted closer to her on the bench and wrapped her fingers around Erin’s bicep. “Like this.”

“I’ve never done that.”

“You do that all the time.”

“Am I not allowed to be physically affectionate? _You_ are. With everyone.”

“Yeah, and _you’re_ not. You only do that to me.”

Erin’s chest turned red. She pried Holtzmann’s fingers off her arm. “Okay then, why do _you_ talk to me more than you talk to the others?”

“You’re more interesting.”

“I’m the least interesting conversational partner on our team. Yet I was gone for _half a day_ and you called me instead of just talking to someone else. You even made a dummy of me to talk to.”

Holtzmann’s ears heated up. She slid back away from Erin. “Why do you smile at me when you think I’m not looking?”

“Why do you stare at me when you think _I’m_ not looking?”

“It’s not staring. It’s called zoning out.”

“Zoning out on my face?”

“I don’t know what you’re implying, Erin, but—”

“I don’t know what _you’re_ implying with this third degree,” Erin said angrily. “So what if I smile at you? And laugh when you make a joke? What do you think that means?”

“I don’t think it means anything. Just like I don’t think it _means_ anything that I like talking to you. Or give you new tech. It’s my job to talk to you at work and give you new tech.”

“So now we’re not even friends? You talk to me because you _have to?_ Because it’s your _job?_ ”

“I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you meant. Whatever.” Erin laughed once. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me and I don’t have to explain myself to you. If you want to read into things, fine.”

“I’m not reading into anything. I just wanted to know why you do those things.”

“Because you think I like you!” Erin burst. “You think I like you, and that’s why I do those things! But I don’t! I don’t like you, Holtzmann! I don’t like you!”

“I got the message, Erin. I got the message the first time you ever told me that. You don’t need to keep shoving it down my throat. I get it. You don’t like me. Good for you.”

“I _do_ have to keep saying it, because apparently you’re _still_ getting the wrong idea!”

“I’m not getting the wrong idea!” Holtzmann yelled, standing up from the bench. It was the first time she’d ever yelled at Erin. “I don’t care! I don’t care because I don’t like you, I’ve never liked you, and I never _will_ like you! Okay?”

Erin stared back at her with dead, hurt eyes.

She stood swiftly and gripped her purse tightly over her shoulder. “I have to go.”

Holtzmann’s stomach churned. “Erin—”

Erin stepped away from her. “I have something I have to—I’ve got to go. I’ll see you later.”

“Erin, wait—”

But Erin was walking away, fast.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience, even in the face of a cliffhanger! December is such a busy month that I barely had any time to write :) Back on track now!

Abby was in the middle of explaining to Kevin why he couldn’t leave for three hours in the middle of the day for karate practice without telling anyone, when suddenly the door flew open and in stepped a bawling Erin.

“Erin!” Abby immediately forgot all about Kevin and his beige belt (he was so bad at karate that they’d actually invented a new belt color just for him). “Are you okay? Is it your head? Are you hurt? Are you dying? Where’s Holtzmann? Is she hurt? Is she dying? Is Holtzmann dead?”

Erin just cried harder, landing in Abby’s arms and sobbing into her shoulder. “No,” she burbled.

Abby looked around, bewildered, and patted her back. “What’s going on?”

There was the sound of Patty thumping down the stairs. “Ey, Holtzy just texted me an SOS with an address,” she called. “Gear up, Ab—oh.” She came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs.

Abby made wide eye contact with her over Erin’s slumped form. “I don’t think you’ll need your gear. Just go.”

“Why wouldn’t I need my gear?”

“Because I’m willing to bet good money that it’s not a ghost SOS,” Abby said.

“Haven’t we learned our lesson about betting?”

Erin made an animal-like noise of anguish.

Patty grimaced at her. “Okay. I’m going.”

Erin continued to wail while Patty swiftly and quietly made her exit.

“Hey, Kevin, buddy, you think you could maybe—” Abby looked over her shoulder. “Annnd he’s already gone. Great. Guess it’s just the two of us.”

Erin let out some sort of gibberish as a response.

“Erin. You want to tell me why you’re having a meltdown on me right now?”

Erin sniffled and lifted her head enough to utter a single, “Holtzmann.”

“Well, yeah, I kind of pieced that together with context clues.” Abby sighed. “What happened?”

Erin picked herself up and took a step back from her, wiping her streaky face with the back of her hand. She let out a long shaky breath. “We had a fight.”

“A fight?” Abby looked down at her cardigan. “Gross, you got snot all over me. You guys don’t fight, you bicker. Are you sure it wasn’t just flirty banter?”

“It was a _fight,_ Abby,” Erin said. She started crying anew. “She yelled at me.”

“Holtzmann never yells,” Abby said dismissively. “Not unless she’s far away from you. Was she far away from you?”

“No. She yelled in my face that she has never and _will_ never like me as more than a friend.”

Abby looked up slowly. “She _said_ that?”

Erin just cried in response.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Abby said. “Just take a few deep breaths.”

Erin sucked in few haphazard wheezy breaths.

“I love Holtz, but she’s an idiot sometimes,” Abby said. “Most times, actually.”

“Not liking me doesn’t make her an idiot.” Erin wiped at her eyes again. “It just makes her like every other person on the planet. And I don’t even care anyway.”

Abby gave her the sharpest look Erin had ever seen.

“Erin Gilbert, Patty and I have been putting up with this bull crap for months now, but you have _got_ to get over this. Get it together. Are you kidding me with this?”

Erin’s brow furrowed. “What?”

-

Patty walked into the bowling alley still half-expecting to see a ghost. Instead, it only took a quick scan of the dark and chaotic room to zero in on Holtzmann happily bowling in the furthest lane.

She made her way over to her and was about to say something witty when she happened to glance up at the scoreboard.

“Holy _shit_.”

Holtzmann turned around, bowling ball in her hand. “Oh, hey Patty.”

Patty gaped up at the screen. “Are you seriously one strike away from bowling a perfect game?”

Holtzmann grimaced. “I know. I’m off my game.”

“Off your game?!” Patty pointed meaningfully at the screen. “ _One strike away from a perfect game_.”

“It’s terrible.”

Patty stared at her and shook her head. “I swear I will never understand you.”

“Thanks,” Holtz replied glumly. She weighed the bowling ball in her hands and contemplated the pins at the end of the lane. “I’m having such an off night that I bet I couldn’t even miss if I was trying to.”

“Why would you _try_ to miss when you’re one strike away from a perfect game?”

“Nothing in life is perfect, nor should it be the goal,” Holtzmann replied, winding back her arm and releasing the ball at an angle so it hurtled towards the gutters. They both watched as it started curving back towards the center as it traveled down the lane, finally hitting the pins square on and sending them all flying.

Holtzmann threw her arms overhead with an exasperated sigh. “Told you.”

Overhead, the scoreboard was freaking out with confetti. Holtzmann turned away from it and flopped down at the table, lifting a beer bottle to her lips and draining the rest of it.

Patty took a careful seat across from her. “So you wanna tell me what’s going on?”

A bowling alley employee swooped in out of nowhere and swapped Holtzmann’s beer for a fresh one, setting a tray of nachos down in front of her.

Holtzmann lifted the beer bottle. “Thanks, Frank.”

He gave Patty a once-over. “Another one already?”

Holtzmann snorted into her beer. “Patty? Patty’s not my date. She’s out of my league.”

Patty leaned forward on the table. “First of all, true. Second of all: do you bring girls here?”

“No.” Holtzmann slurped her beer. Then, mumbled, “I brought Erin here.”

Patty stared at her for a few seconds, then looked up at the man, Frank. “Can you bring me one of those?”

Holtzmann picked up a cheese-covered chip and popped it into her mouth while Frank disappeared. He came back a minute later with another beer and a little bag of popcorn, which he set in front of Patty. She thanked him.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, Patty watching Holtzmann carefully.

“On a date?” Patty asked.

Holtzmann paused with a chip halfway to her mouth. “Hm?”

“Did you bring Erin here on a date?”

Holtzmann held the chip between her teeth. “No.”

Patty made a noise of disbelief and sipped from her beer.

Holtzmann crunched down on the chip and chewed for a few seconds. “We just came to hang out. As friends. When we were supposed to be on a stakeout.”

Patty’s eyes narrowed. “You skipped out on a stakeout?”

Holtzmann waved dismissively. “It wasn’t a real one anyway. Just one that you and Abby fabricated. You know, the night that your ‘niece’ had her ‘baseball game’? And Abby’s apartment ‘flooded’?”

“Smallwood Manor?” Patty set her beer bottle down with a thunk. “That was a real stakeout. Someone _paid_ us for that.”

Holtzmann paused, her own beer held to her lips. “Well…it wasn’t haunted anyway.”

“Okay, we’ll have to talk about _that_ later.” Patty shook her head. “For now…you ever gonna explain what’s going on and why you dragged me across town?”

Holtzmann chewed contemplatively. “You wanna bowl a few frames with me?”

Patty sighed. “I’m not gonna get anything out of you until I do, am I?” She stood. “I’ll go get some shoes.”

Holtzmann bent under the table, and a second later set down a pair of bowling shoes next to her nachos with a triumphant grin.

Patty glared at her, but snagged the shoes off the table. “One game. That’s it.”

-

“Do we have to walk through this in five-year-old terms?” Abby steered Erin over to the array of couches on the other side of Kevin’s desk and gently forced her down onto one. Then she walked to the minifridge over by the containment unit that Holtzmann stored both energy drinks and occasionally ectoplasm in, and retrieved one of the bottles of water they kept for clients. She unscrewed the top and pressed it into Erin’s hands.

Erin took a baby sip and stared morosely up at her. “Walk through what?”

Abby flopped onto an armchair and leaned forward. “Why are you bawling your eyes out right now?”

Erin sniffled. “Because Holtz and I had a fight.”

“You and I have fights all the time. You’ve never had a full-on meltdown.”

“She yelled at me.”

“I yell at you.”

“Yeah, but you’re Abby.”

“Uh huh. And what makes Holtz different, Erin? Huh?”

Erin dropped her head and didn’t answer.

“Was it that she yelled? Or was it _what_ she yelled?” Abby leaned back in her seat with her arms crossed smugly.

“I told you, I don’t _care_ that—”

“Erin, if I looked at you right now and said that I have never and will never like you as more than a friend, would you break down in tears?”

A hesitation. “No.”

“Right, and why not?”

“Because I already know that?”

“Because you _don’t want me to_ , Erin. Holy crudballs. Why is this so hard for you to get?”

“What does that have to do with Holtz?”

Abby let out a long continuous groan.

-

Patty’s ball hit slightly to the left, scattering three pins and leaving the rest standing. She swore. She was getting too into the game. She was trailing far behind Holtzmann on the scoreboard.

“You’re better than Erin,” Holtzmann commented behind her. “She thinks too much. Tries to calculate her shots instead of just taking them.”

“Does she really?” Patty said under her breath. She turned around to find Holtzmann leaning on the ball return, looking lost in her thoughts.

Holtzmann’s eyes were on the ceiling. “We had a fight. Or something. I dunno what I’d really call it.”

Patty paused in the fetching of her ball. Instead of responding, she merely let out a noise that could be interpreted in a number of ways depending on how Holtzmann wanted to hear it. She grabbed her ball and walked back.

“I yelled at her,” Holtz said in a small voice.

Patty took her throw and turned without bothering to see how many pins she got. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

“I’ve never yelled at her,” she said. “I can’t believe I did. I feel like shit.”

Patty hesitated. Usually the key to getting Holtzmann through serious conversations was to show enough disinterest that she didn’t feel like all the attention was on her, but in this case she felt like maybe she needed to be more direct and attentive.

“We all get angry sometimes,” she said carefully.

“I wasn’t even angry, I was—” Holtzmann ran a hand through her hair and exhaled. “I dunno. It all happened so fast. And then all of a sudden she was running away before I could apologize or anything. And now I don’t know where she is.”

Patty took a seat at their table and took a swig of now-room-temp beer. “She’s at the Firehouse.”

Holtzmann lifted her head. “She is?”

“She was when I left,” Patty said.

Holtzmann came to join her at the table, fiddling with her hands. “How…how did she seem?”

“Uhh…”

Holtzmann winced. “Was she angry?”

“Not…angry,” Patty said slowly.

“Then upset?” Holtzmann dropped her head into her hands. “I can’t believe I upset her. I never wanted to hurt her.”

Patty didn’t respond, and after a few seconds Holtzmann looked back up.

“Was she _not_ upset?” she asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“No, she was upset,” Patty muttered.

“How upset?”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because I—” Holtzmann broke off and hung her head again. “I…care about her,” she mumbled.

Patty held her gaze, choosing her words carefully.

“I’ve never seen her so devasted in my life,” she said. “She was sobbing uncontrollably when I left. So whatever you said to her must have really hit hard.”

Holtzmann looked dismayed. “What? No—no she couldn’t have been. I…fuck. It couldn’t have been what I said…just that I yelled at her. Right?”

“What did you say?”

Holtzmann folded into herself and didn’t respond.

“Holtzy?”

Holtzmann mumbled something too fast to catch.

Patty leaned closer. “What was that?”

“I said something stupid about not liking her,” Holtzmann said in a rush.

“Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because I’m stupid.”

“Yeah. You are,” Patty said loudly. “What the fuck, Holtzy.”

Holtzmann winced again. “But that can’t be why she’s upset.”

“Of _course_ it’s why she’s upset. Jesus.”

“Why would she care? She doesn’t care.”

Patty inhaled a long breath to give herself strength. “Holtzy. Girl. I love you, but I’m not playing this game anymore.”

Holtzmann’s forehead creased.

“First of all, even if she _didn’t_ like you, nobody wants to be told to their face just how uninterested you are in them,” Patty said.

“ _I_ know that, believe me,” Holtzmann interjected.

“I’m not done,” Patty said. “ _Second_ of all, Erin _does_ like you, and you like her, and I will _not_ hear any pushback from you on this.”

“But—”

“What did I just say?”

Holtzmann shut up.

Patty shook her head. “I don’t know what’s been going on in your little brains but I’m over it. It was funny for a while, but now this is getting dangerous if you’re _hurting_ each other in your stupidity. Come on now.”

Holtzmann looked down at her hands. It was silent for a few minutes.

“What, nothing?” Patty asked.

“I wasn’t sure if you had more to say,” Holtzmann said quietly, still looking at her hands.

“I don’t. What do _you_ have to say?”

Holtzmann was quiet for another moment, then slowly looked up.

-

“Erin. For the love of flapjacks, look deep inside yourself for me. How do you feel about Holtzmann? Really? _Really really_?”

“I—” Erin scrunched up her face. “I know what you’re getting at Abby, and I just can’t. I can’t like her.”

“Why the crap not?”

“She’s…she’s…”

“Too perfect for you? Makes you laugh? Makes you happy? Is one of your favorite people to spend time with? Is one of your best friends?”

Erin pointed at her. “That. _That_.”

“That’s what’s stopping you? That she’s your friend?”

“It’s not _stopping_ me, it’s—she’s—she’s _Holtz_ , Abby! She’s Holtz. She’s—I don’t—I love her, but—”

Erin stopped, blinked, and stared at Abby.

“I—I love her,” she repeated shakily, “but…but…”

Abby’s hand reached and landed on her shoulder. “There doesn’t have to be a but, you know.”

“There has to be,” Erin whispered. “That can’t be the end of that sentence.”

Abby raised an eyebrow at her.

“Oh god,” Erin said quietly. “I love her.”

-

Holtzmann blinked at Patty with big, wide eyes.

“I think I like Erin.”

Patty rolled her eyes. “Yeah.”

“I actually am pretty positive that I love her.”

“Yeah,” Patty repeated. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

Holtzmann leapt up from the table. “You said she was at the Firehouse?”

-

Erin crossed the Firehouse towards the door. “You said she texted Patty with an address?”

“Yeah, but—”

“She would’ve been upset,” Erin said. She stopped for a second, frowning deeply as she thought. Then she looked back at Abby with a start. “I know where she is.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January was another very busy month - thanks for waiting! Hope you enjoy!

Erin burst through the doors of the bowling alley out of breath and looked around wildly. The nearest employee behind the shoe rental counter eyed her.

A scan of the room didn’t yield the puff of blonde hair she was searching for, and her heart fell. Had she miscalculated?

She approached the counter, still out of breath.

“Hi,” she panted. “Have you seen this woman—short, yellow glasses, blonde hair in kind of a—” She gestured exaggeratedly several inches above her head.

“Holtzmann?” the girl asked, looking amused.

“Yeah,” Erin said, surprised. “Is she here?”

“My shift just started,” the girl said. She looked back over her shoulder. “Hey, Frank?” she yelled.

A man on the other end of the room behind the concessions counter lifted his head. The girl waved him over.

“Oh, I know you,” he said to Erin as he came to join them.

The girl leaned forward on the counter. “Has Holtzmann been round today?”

“Yeah, she was just here,” Frank said, hooking his thumb over his shoulder. “Took off—oh, 20 minutes ago? Give or take 10?”

Relief flooded through Erin, followed quickly by disappointment. She was here, but she left.

“Do you know where she went?” she asked weakly.

Frank shook his head. “She left in a hurry. Didn’t even finish her game.”

Erin drummed her fingers on the counter anxiously. “Did anyone see which way she went when she got outside?”

She was met with more head shaking.

“Sorry,” the girl said earnestly.

“Thanks anyway,” Erin said, turning away from the counter as her stomach twisted.

-

Holtzmann threw open the Firehouse door and all but ran inside, followed closely by Patty. Abby was over by the containment unit, and looked up, startled by their loud entrance.

“ERIN?” Holtzmann called at the top of her lungs.

Abby rushed over. “What are you doing here?”

“Need to talk to Erin,” Holtzmann said frantically, tearing away to the stairs.

“She’s not here,” Abby called after her, then turned to glare at Patty. “Thanks for checking your phone.”

Patty grimaced. “Shit—sorry. I could barely keep up with her—haven’t had time to check. Erin’s gone?”

Holtzmann had returned, looking distraught. “She’s gone? You said she was here, Patty!”

“She was,” both Abby and Patty said at the same time.

“She just left,” Abby added. “About twenty minutes ago. She was looking for you—she seemed to think she knew where you were.”

Holtzmann was already backing towards the door. “Which was where?”

“I don’t know—she tore out of here before I could ask,” Abby said.

Holtzmann stared at the door for a moment, then looked back at them. “So nobody knows where she is.”

They both shook their heads.

“I’m sure if you just wait here—” Patty started to say.

Holtzmann was already making for the door.

She disappeared, leaving the door open behind her, and the two of them shared a glance.

“Declaration of love?” Abby asked.

Patty nodded slowly. “Erin, too?”

“Yep.”

They both stared at the open door for several seconds, and then Abby moved to go close it.

-

Erin stepped out onto the street in front of the bowling alley, pulling her phone from her pocket. She gazed at it, chewing on her lip.

She selected Holtzmann’s name in her recents list and hit call.

Back in front of the Firehouse, Holtzmann was walking down the sidewalk, phone in hand. She nearly crashed into someone as she navigated through her phone as fast as she could, finally hitting call next to Erin’s name and lifting it to her ear.

It didn’t ring—but rather went straight to voicemail. Erin’s voice in her ear.

_You’ve reached Erin Gilbert, Doctor of Particle Physics, and founding member of the Ghostbusters. I am unable to answer your call at this time. For business inquiries or ghost emergencies, please contact the Ghostbusters main office line. For all other matters, please leave a message with your name and number, and I will call you back at my earliest convenience. Thank you._

“Hurry it up, Erin,” Holtzmann mumbled, and then the beep sounded in her ear. She inhaled.

Erin tucked herself into the quiet, albeit smelly, alleyway on the side of the bowling alley. Her phone hadn’t rung at all, but instead taken her straight to Holtzmann’s recording.

_Hey, it’s Holtz. I’m currently being abducted by aliens and—oh God, they’re here—”_ Here was the noise of Holtzmann mimicking a tractor beam and a series of other beeps, followed by her impression of alien chatter. This went on for several seconds, then she was cut off by the voicemail beep.

Erin shook her head fondly. Then took a deep breath and began talking.

“Hey, Holtz,” she began, voice shaking. “It’s me—it’s Erin.”

“Hey, it’s Holtz,” Holtzmann started. “I, uh…I’m here at the Firehouse. Just left, actually. And I guess I just missed you.”

“I was looking for you, and I thought maybe you had come to the bowling alley, so that’s where I am,” Erin said. “I was too late, though. They said you just left. I don’t know where you went—maybe back to HQ, or maybe home…”

“I have no idea where you went. Maybe home, or something. I dunno.”

“I wanted to find you because I…I don’t like how things ended earlier. I hate fighting with you, and I…I’m really sorry, Holtz.”

Holtzmann scrubbed her hand through her hair as she dodged passerby on the sidewalk. “I was such an ass earlier. I can’t believe I said what I did—and I can’t believe I yelled at you.”

“I pushed you, and I got defensive because I was scared.”

“That conversation kind of freaked me out, if I’m being honest.”

Erin met the eyes of someone walking past on the street, and turned her head, lowering her voice. “I’ve felt sick ever since I ran away from you. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I should’ve chased after you. I’m so sorry, Erin. Fuck. I’m really sorry. I’m such an idiot.”

“I ran back to the Firehouse because I didn’t know where else to go. But truthfully as soon as I turned my back on you, I regretted it. Because when I’m upset—you’re the one I want to go to, Holtz.”

“After you left, I went to my bowling alley, because that’s always where I go when I’m upset. But being there didn’t feel right. It wasn’t until Patty showed up that I realized why.”

“I basically cried onto Abby’s shoulder for long enough to soak her cardigan through, and then she…she had some thoughts.”

“She basically tore into me and made me take a long look at what just happened. Between us, I mean. And I guess…what’s been happening for months.”

“I say thoughts,” Erin said with a grimace to herself. “Really she just smacked me over the head with what’s…been in front of me this whole time.”

Holtzmann shoved her free hand in her pocket and swallowed, looking across the street. “I really wish I had been able to find you. Because this…isn’t the place to say this.”

“I don’t want to say this to your voicemail box,” Erin said, heart hammering in her chest, “but I—I’m scared, Holtz. Really scared. So I might have to. Because if I don’t say it now, I—I think I might chicken out and never say it.”

“I think I’m gonna do it anyway.” Holtzmann glanced down at her bowling shoe covered feet. “If nothing else, I’m good for dodging uncomfortable conversations and flouting social norms. So here we go, Erin—”

“The thing is, Holtz…the thing that Abby pushed me to realize—and Patty, though she wasn’t around when it happened—”

“Shit, I just got really nervous all of a sudden. Okay, Holtzy.” Holtzmann cleared her throat roughly. “It turns out, Erin, that Abby and Patty are a lot smarter than I am. And it also turns out that I’m a filthy liar. I lied to you, Erin. I didn’t know I was lying, but I did.”

“I can’t believe it took me so long to realize it, but…I finally figured it out, Holtz. There’s a reason I got so defensive earlier.”

“I said that I could never like you as more than a friend. Turns out that’s kinda bullshit. Turns out, actually, that I can.”

“And the reason…the reason is that…”

“Turns out, Erin, that I already do.”

“I’m in love with you, Holtz,” Erin got out in barely more than a whisper.

“And actually, I am very much in love with you, Er. Just in case you’re wondering.”

“I love you,” Erin repeated, “and I know I really shouldn’t have said that to your voicemail instead of your face. But I don’t know where you are, and I need you to know.”

“I needed you to know that. Right now,” Holtzmann said. “Because I just figured it out, and it feels like the kinda news that’s worth sharing immediately.”

“But the thing is, you’ve made it very clear that you don’t like me back. And that’s fine, that’s—” Erin exhaled. “That’s okay. It’s okay that you don’t like me back. You don’t have to. But I still needed you to know.”

“Especially when it kind of immediately contradicts what I told you earlier. I figured I needed to set the record straight. Even if you don’t like me back. So yeah. Really hoping this doesn’t mess things up between us, but it needed to be said.”

“I just don’t want to lose your friendship, whatever happens. I can’t lose you, Holtz. You’re too important to me.”

“Anyway. I’m surprised I haven’t been cut off. I should probably cut myself off. I don’t know where you are, or when you’ll get this, but…call me when you do. Unless you don’t want to talk to me.”

“So that’s all. That’s my big declaration.” Erin laughed nervously. “I’m suddenly picturing you listening to this message and I just got a rush of nerves. So really, I should just stop right here before I embarrass myself any farther. And then maybe shut off my phone. Actually, no. If you call back, I want to know.”

“So yeah. I’ll uh…talk to you when you get this, I guess? Or not.” Holtzmann cleared her throat. “Alright. Um…bye. That feels like a lame sign-off after a message like this. See ya? Later, gator?”

“Okay, stop talking, Erin.” Erin shook her head. “I hope—I don’t know what I hope. But…I hope I’ll hear back from you. Um…okay. Bye. Sorry, for…all this.”

Erin slowly took her phone away from her ear and hung up, then stared at it in mild horror for a few seconds as the reality of what she did sunk in.

Holtzmann ended the call and gripped her phone tightly. A few seconds passed, then she realized she had a notification. There, on the screen, was a waiting voicemail.

Erin gulped in a few quick breaths, trying not to hyperventilate, and then suddenly she spotted something on her screen. A new voicemail.

A second passed, and then they both reached out to tap the notification.


	9. Chapter 9

For a few moments after the voicemail ended, Erin just stood there, her phone in her hand down by her side. She was shaking slightly, frozen in place. Holtzmann’s recorded words echoed in her head.

She lifted the phone back to her ear and listened to the voicemail menu repeating options. She was about to replay the message when suddenly her phone vibrated once.

She slowly lowered the phone from her ear and glanced at the new notification that had appeared. A text message. From Holtzmann herself.

_So……..meet back at that bench in the park???_

Erin swallowed, still shaking, and closed the voicemail screen so she could respond with a single _Yes_.

-

Holtzmann arrived first, and quickly discovered that someone had claimed the bench that her and Erin had been on earlier. It was then that she started to get turned around and wondered if this was in fact the right spot—a lot of the park looked the same to her. She turned around and started walking back in the direction she’d come from, scanning the surrounding area.

“Holtz?” a familiar voice called.

She whirled back around, and there was Erin, walking quickly toward her from the other direction.

Holtzmann took off at a jog, reaching her in a few seconds flat.

“Hey,” she said, skipping to a stop.

“Hey,” Erin echoed, nervous-sounding.

“So uh…you got my message?”

Erin nodded. “Did you get mine?”

Holtzmann scratched her neck. “Sure did.”

They stared at each other.

“Do you wanna—” Holtzmann began.

“Should we—” Erin started.

They both broke off and laughed.

“There’s someone on our bench,” Holtzmann commented.

Erin bit her lip. “Do you want to maybe go back to my apartment? So we can talk?”

Holtzmann nodded eagerly. “Okay, yeah.”

-

Back at Erin’s apartment, she quickly bustled around tidying things that weren’t even messes. Holtzmann rolled her eyes.

“So much for a sick day,” she said.

“Can you take off your shoes?” Erin asked.

Holtzmann raised an eyebrow but stooped to begin unlacing her boots.

“Also, I’m fine,” Erin said. “It was just a formality to stay home.”

Holtzmann raised her other eyebrow.

Erin inhaled. “Okay. Maybe that was a _little_ more running than I should’ve done the day after being thrown across a pharmacy.”

Holtzmann shed one boot and began on the other. “The doctor didn’t explicitly say _no_ running across the city to find the love of your life.”

Erin bit down on her lip. “I never said you were the love of my life.”

Holtzmann quirked her mouth. “Didn’t you? My bad.”

Erin sank into her couch, letting out an involuntary groan as she did so, her face contorting.

Holtzmann straightened up immediately, one boot still on and half unlaced. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Erin said through a grimace. “Just forgot about the bruises.”

Holtzmann gazed at her for a moment, then started for the kitchen in a half-hobble, her one single boot clunking with every other step. She threw the freezer door open and peered inside.

Her nose wrinkled.

“Frozen brussels sprouts?” she called over her shoulder with disgust. “ _Why?_ ”

“In case I ever want brussels sprouts but don’t want to go to the store,” Erin said.

Holtzmann turned her head to give her a look.

“They’re disgusting frozen,” Erin admitted. “I bought those six months ago, made them once, and haven’t been able to eat the rest of them. The texture is horrendous.”

Holtzmann slammed the freezer door shut, the bag in her hand. She clomped over to Erin, shaking her head. “What did you expect would happen? You’re the one who bought _frozen brussels sprouts_.” She shuddered and handed Erin the bag. “For your bruises.”

Erin’s expression softened. She tucked the bag of offending vegetables under her left elbow, which had come down the hardest when she’d been thrown to the ground. “Thanks.”

Holtzmann plopped down onto the couch and propped her feet, one socked and one booted, on the coffee table.

Erin made a face. “No feet on the coffee table. And I told you to take off your shoes, please.”

Holtzmann swung her feet down, then bent and finished unlacing her other boot. She wiggled her foot out of it, then very gingerly placed the freed boot down on the coffee table on top of a coaster.

Then she leaned back and smiled at Erin angelically.

Erin pressed her fingers to her temples and inhaled.

“Have you changed your mind yet?” Holtzmann asked sweetly.

“About what?” Erin shifted on the couch, trying to get comfortable.

“Being in love with me or whatever?” Holtzmann grinned widely.

“Incredibly, no,” Erin muttered.

Holtzmann perked up even further. “No?”

Erin bit her lip and shook her head.

They both sat in silence for a moment, watching each other.

“What made you change your mind?” Holtzmann asked casually.

Erin frowned. “About what?”

Holtzmann settled back into the couch. “Me.”

Erin’s gaze fell to the boot on her coffee table as she mulled it over. “Nothing, really. I…I don’t know.”

“So were you lying? All those times you said I wasn’t your type?”

“No,” Erin replied quickly. “In fact, I stand by it. You’re _not_ my type.”

“Well.” Holtzmann sucked her teeth. “You’re still not exactly mine, either.”

“And yet…”

“And yet,” Holtzmann agreed.

“Did something change _your_ mind?” Erin shifted the bag of sprouts so it was attending to another bruise on her other elbow. “The last I heard, you were pretty adamant about not liking me.”

“Yeah. I don’t really know what happened—I can’t explain it. It’s like all of a sudden everything clicked into place. You know?”

Erin nodded, understanding perfectly.

“Suddenly you weren’t Erin Gilbert, the uptight stick-in-the-mud who spends way too much time thinking things through—”

Erin frowned. “Hey.”

“—but you were Erin Gilbert, the balance to my chaos, the voice of reason keeping me from blowing half the city to shreds. The one to think through what I never would. Now I _like_ how rational you are. I like that you’ve got a supercomputer for a brain and it allows you to see things nobody else can. And I also like that I can unravel you if I try hard enough. I also like that you’re not quite as much of a stick-in-the-mud as I thought you were. You…leap over the counter to face a ghost head-on even when that’s a colossally stupid idea.”

Erin flushed.

Holtzmann continued. “You go to a _shooting range_ to unwind like the little trigger-happy ghost-fighter you are.” She paused. “You’re pretty amazing, Erin. And all the things that I thought were turn-offs are actually things that I really love about you, when I think about it. Because I can’t imagine you any other way.”

Erin was still pink across the cheeks. “I know what you mean. I…also have been seeing you in a different light, I think. There’s a lot of things about you that used to drive me up the wall, but now it’s like…I can’t imagine not finding those things admirable.”

“Admiration, eh? Is that what we’re calling it?” Holtzmann cut in cheekily.

Erin gave her a little shove. “You know what I mean. I used to think you were impulsive and reckless and disorganized and now I know that all of those qualities are exactly what make you so brilliant at what you do. You’re so creative, and you take _risks_ that nobody else takes. And they’re calculated risks—most of the time. You know what you’re doing. And sure, you don’t have a filter and you’re loud and get in people’s faces and on their nerves—but you’re incredibly honest, and fun, and funny, and you care deeply about the people around you.”

The tips of Holtzmann’s ears turned pink.

“I thought you didn’t take anything seriously, but you do,” Erin said. “When someone gets hurt, you take that seriously.”

Holtzmann’s eyes darted to the defrosting bag on Erin’s arm.

“And when someone is struggling, you help them. You pay attention. You bring people coffee and painkillers that don’t interact with their medications. Yeah, maybe you deflect a bit when it comes to serious emotions, but so do a lot of people. You care, Holtz. You care.”

Holtzmann dropped her chin, tugging on her ear.

“How could I not fall in love with someone like that?” Erin whispered. “Someone who calls me while I’m home sick just because they miss me?”

“Don’t forget Dummy-Erin,” Holtzmann reminded her. “I made Dummy-Erin.”

Erin laughed lightly. “Yes, how could I not fall for someone who makes a _dummy_ of me when I’m not around?”

“Should’ve been a red flag for me,” Holtzmann said thoughtfully. “I guess it’s been kind of obvious this whole time, hasn’t it? That I loved you?”

“Obvious to Abby and Patty, anyway,” Erin said with a sigh.

Holtzmann’s brow furrowed. “What day is it?”

Erin cocked her head. “Thursday?”

Holtzmann swore. “Kevin. Kevin won.”

It took Erin a moment, then she thudded her palm to her forehead. “Are you serious? Kevin won that insane bet?”

“How did he _know?_ ” Holtzmann started muttering to herself, something about wanting to hook him up and monitor his brain for signs of psychic activity, but Erin reached out and captured her hand.

“Forget about him for a second.”

“Done.”

Erin chewed on her lip. “How much do you believe in the power of suggestion?”

Holtzmann blinked at her, not understanding.

“Do you think,” Erin said, still holding her hand but not meeting her eyes, “that we were nudged into this?”

“Because Abby and Patty have been at it non-stop?” Holtzmann gazed up the ceiling. “They’re not hypnotists.”

“That we know of.”

Holtzmann snorted.

Erin sighed. “I know what you’re getting at though. It would take some pretty persistent suggestion to make someone fall in love with somebody else. I just couldn’t help but wonder. They _did_ get in our heads.”

“I don’t think they put anything into our heads that wasn’t there already,” Holtzmann said with a grin. “I always liked you as a person, Er. Just took me a bit of time to fall for you.”

Erin bobbed her head in agreement. “I feel the same way.”

“Really? You didn’t hate me at first?”

“I was _annoyed_ by you,” Erin corrected. “I never hated you.”

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about hate and love,” Holtzmann said with a wink.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Erin fought back a grin.

“So, are we going to continue to dissect every facet of this whole situation, or do I get to finally kiss you?” Holtzmann blurted.

“Oh,” Erin spluttered. “Yes. Definitely, that.”

Holtzmann launched herself at her on the couch, and caught Erin’s lips with her own, and there was a soft thud as the bag of frozen brussels sprouts slid to the floor.

The last coherent thought either of them had for a while was that they really should’ve done this sooner.

-

Across town, Abby and Patty sat in the Firehouse.

Abby checked her watch. “Think it’s time to call it?”

Patty clicked her tongue and shook her head. “You know they ain’t coming back for the rest of the day.”

Abby snickered and bumped fists with Patty, then both of them leaned back with self-satisfaction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


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